


come (what) may

by 10hr10minute



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, side!booseok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:57:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9843962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10hr10minute/pseuds/10hr10minute
Summary: the story of how kwon soonyoung broke a phone and fixed a heart(composer x dance teacher)





	1. december

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- !! warning !! okay there is domestic violence in this fic, this is a heads up, nothing's graphic though  
> \- other than that, some vulgarities (as per usual)  
> \- more notes at the end

It’s bright. It’s warm.

There was the fluorescent lamp dangerously close to the edge of the table, steadfastly casting its light. It was a strong but contained illumination; just enough to shine off the monitor, and to reflect off his glasses, but it doesn’t reach the door at the other end of the room. 

He was sitting in a chair, hunched over, legs bent and draw up, squeezing for a spot on the seat. Over his back, a hoodie. Over the hoodie, a jacket. Bundled under the layers, he focused on the pixelated wavelengths in front of his eyes, and the music entering his ears.

Click, clack, click, clack. An adjustment made here, a tweak there, a song coming together. And in good time too, he mused, distantly thinking of the deadline.

Only a few times, his right hand left the keyboard to reach for the mug of coffee, long since losing the steaming heat it had when it’d just came from the machine, but the smell is still there and the taste still as bitter when it goes down the throat so it qualified as coffee.

The door opened with a nasty creak for it was an old door, but he doesn’t hear it.

Arms come around to hold him, he felt the backrest of the chair dip backwards. His fingers curl, stopping what they were doing to reach up to remove his headphones.

“How has your work been?” The guy asked.

“It’s going well.” He answered, wrinkling his nose at the waft of alcohol.

The guy hummed, tightening his hug. “Yes, good. That’s a good boy.” Face buried in his neck. “On the other hand, I’ve had a hard day today.”

The coarseness of the stubble irritated his skin. The long hair prickled into his eyes. “I could make you some coffee.”

But there was a hand trailing down his chest already.

“Hmm, maybe later?”

They dipped lower and lower. The chair violently shoved until it spun, and now he was facing the guy for the first time that day, or was it in two days, the sky outside just the faintest shade away from night. He noticed the rumpled clothes and dishevelled hair, the stain of lipstick on the collar.

He allowed himself to be pulled by the arm. There was little time between him standing up, feeling the pins in his legs to his back, bare, hitting the plush covers of the bed. A tan arm on each side of his head, a face right above his.

“Must we do it here?” He asked.

He felt the guy’s expression darken through the sudden imposingness of his arms. “Is there a reason we shouldn’t?” The voice was concerned.

“No.” He bit his tongue.

So the guy moved, planting kisses on his shoulder, palm upon his thigh.

Outside of his room, the sky continued to clear, the murky blackness becoming a veil against the light coming from behind, the last guardians of the night. He threw his head back and caught a glimmer of the sight through the window.

It’s bright. It’s warm.

* * *

 

Whoever told him he’d start magically making responsible decisions when he turned 20 was a filthy liar and should be burned on a stake. 

Soonyoung’s five years past that supposed mark, and he’d just spent a sleepless night binge watching ‘The Walking Dead’.

Why?

Because Steven Yuen looked great.

And now, he was rushing through the snow-covered streets of Seoul, hair sticking out in all directions, bags under his eyes. There was sharpness in the air, it scratched dry and cold in his chest, and left in a cloud of white.

Now it wasn’t so bad yet, he’s only a few minutes behind. With any luck, he’d be able to catch the train as soon as he arrived on the platform and it’d all be back on track.

His eye twitched, he brought a hand to rub at it. For a second, his vision was obscured, put all his faith into the legs that have taken this exact path many times before. A harmless few seconds of blindness on this wide road, except there was a universal law for luck of this category.

Keeping going straight until… here! Turn right.

Instinctively, he looked up when he turned, a natural response developed in humans probably, to look when they turn so that accidents could be avoided.

Yet it was all too late, when he twisted and there was a mop of brown coming up to his nose, his left leg swung too far outwards. His eyes widen in realisation but it seemed that realisation was limited to his eyes and brain, every nerve in his body suddenly dead.

The impact was somewhat less than he’d expected, a soft thunk against his nose that both sent his head tilting up and his body reeling back. He reversed a few steps trying to regain balance, nothing really making sense yet. Left foot, right foot, left foot down again and something gave way under his shoe with a sickening crunch.

It shocked the stability right back into him, that sound. He jolted, snapping his neck to look at the object. It was a cell phone, the old flip kind that Soonyoung was actually genuinely surprised to see anymore. Although there was no doubt it wouldn’t be flipping anymore, the thing broken magnificently into its two halves, barely attached by some wires of red and blue, lying side by side against the white of the snow.

Soonyoung nervously looked ahead, bottom lip held by his teeth. He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, but it’d probably involve him apologising furiously, he was already estimating the amount of money in his bank account and the price of a new flip phone.

The person before him betrayed that expectation.

This person shorter than him, drowning in a winter jacket much too big, brown envelope clutched under an arm. His other hand was frozen in front of him, fingers posed but holding air. Then his gaze travelled from his hand to the area by Soonyoung’s feet. He stooped down in such a deliberate motion, not even sparing a glance at Soonyoung, and he scooped up the pieces into both his palms. Ungloved, Soonyoung noticed.

“It’s broken.” He said. The voice was kind of coarse and small and disinterested.

Soonyoung didn’t know if he was talking to the phone, to himself, to Soonyoung, or to the air around them, so he said the most intelligent thing he could think of then.

“Ermmm…”

“It breaks so easily.”

This time there was a tinge of wonder in his words.

As if to prove the point to himself, he tugged until even the wires were snapped and he’s got the screen in one hand, the dial pad in the other. He only looked up at Soonyoung then, laughter pouring from his chest, tears falling from his eyes.

Soonyoung never recovered from that disconnect, finally turning around after long beats, but that strange guy was already gone. Walked right past him and away, probably where he had been heading in the first place, leaving broken pieces of what was once a phone on the ground.

An upstanding citizen as always, he picked them up and shoved them in the pocket of his coat. Littering was bad.

Their weight was barely present, metal clattering against metal as he resumed his sprint to the station.

* * *

 

Jihoon absently walked into the shiny building. No one gave him a second glance, and he quietly approached the reception counter. 

“Morning, I’m here to see to see Mr Seo about a song submission.”

The lady smiled and nodded. “Sure, whom am I speaking to?”

“I’m representing Mr Min Jingi.” Jihoon said softly.

A flash of recognition went by her face, coupled with a small blush. “Ah Mr Min? I understand, please have a seat first, I’ll call you again.”

Jihoon half bowed, about to move to one of the leather couches when she spoke up again, preceded with slight cough that caught his attention. “Is Mr Min not feeling well?” Her brows were drawn together.

“He had an emergency to tend to.” Jihoon recited, and then because her brows still haven’t ironed out, “but he should be back by next time.”

She heaved a huge sigh then, features returning to its smile. “Alright. I’ll call you again… oh I didn’t catch your name.” She just realised.

“Mr Lee.” He told her.

She said nothing, though it looked like she had a bit to say, just nodding again and going back to her position.

The rest of the trip happened quickly. The lady called for him like she said she would, and then he was riding an elevator up. It was one of those that were transparent on all sides, so that all the ugly pieces of metal and wire holding the contraption together could be seen. It dinged a few times before he reached his destination, other people coming in or going out.

25th. He got off, and there was a young girl dressed in pastel pink waiting about the lobby. She brightened when she saw him, feet kicking off the floor to bounce over.

“Hi there, you must be here to see Mr Seo.”

Jihoon nodded at her.

She got even brighter. “I’m his intern, Hwang Giyeon, nice to meet you. I’ll show you the way.”

Clapping her hands together, she walked down the hall. Jihoon followed. When they reached a fancy door, she stopped, pointed, and tapping a card on the reader, pushed it open.

“Mr Seo, Mr Min’s representative is here!”

A man was sitting at the far end, facing the window.

“Thanks Giyeon.”

It wasn’t quite a dismissal but she raised her hand in mock salute, then she shot Jihoon one more smile, before going to stand by the door, suddenly silent in voice and presence.

“It’s a real pity to hear about Mr Min.” Mr Seo started, no hint of attempt to get up from his chair. Jihoon walked over instead.

“It’s nothing serious.” He responded, setting the envelope down on the table. “This is the completed song, along with the production materials, and acknowledgement payslip.”

Mr Seo gave him a smile though it was vastly different from the one the intern gave him. His was icy and impersonal. Mr Seo didn’t need any more words after that, coolly tapping at the envelope. Giyeon came over immediately; she removed each article in the envelope to lay them on the table. There was a thumb drive and several pieces of paper. After she was done with that, she took the thumb drive and scampered to where the computer was in the corner.

A song came to fill the room, the festive sound of jingles and bells, a song for Christmas. Jihoon’s feet started tapping against his will. His fingers laced together as they felt empty, stared at the carpet through the transparent glass table. When it ended, Mr Seo leaned forward, for the first time his back not touching the chair. He picked up the papers to scrutinise each word through his round-rimmed glasses. At last, he seemed to be appeased, signing on lines and stamping chops on every page.

“Pleasure doing business with you, representative. Tell dear Jingi to take care for me all right?” Mr Seo reclined back into his seat. “Giyeon, see him out.”

“Yes sir!” She exclaimed, then to Jihoon, “this way, please.”

Jihoon collected the papers back into the envelope, gave Mr Seo a bow and he was out the door the girl was holding open for him.

The door closed with the grating slamming of magnets. Giyeon trotted up to match his pace.

“Hey, I liked the song a lot, it’s a good fit for the season and sounds more of snow than candy cane, just the way I personally like it.” She commented.

“Thanks?” Jihoon was kind of unsure if that was a compliment.

“Would you like some coffee before you go? We only have instant though.” She offered.

“No, I’m good.” They were at the lift now, waiting. “You’re not going to ask me about Mr Min?”

“Err…” She pulled a face, shifting her weight to bounce on her heels. “Between you and me, okay, but Mr Min scares me a little. I feel like I’m not speaking to _him_ him most of the time.”

She caught herself there. “Ah! I don’t mean to disrespect, he must be a friend of yours.” Both hands covered her mouth.

“No harm done.” Jihoon comforted. The elevator dinged. “Good luck with your internship Miss Giyeon.”

He stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, he could see her hold up both her thumbs. The last thing he saw before the carriage sunk into the next floor was the sign morphing into a wave. He kind of wished he waved back.

Because then he was back out into the cold of the winter, the envelope significantly lighter now that most of its contents were in Mr Seo’s office, the lack of something pressing into his thigh.

Still, he had enough change to afford a ticket all the way til the next city over if he wanted. A captivating idea, truly. Maybe he’d take a good stroll around his area instead, it’s been a long time since he did that.

He was happy to see the old ice cream uncle still tending his shop. He was a little sad that the provision store had been replaced by a family mart, despite the general upgrades and conveniences. Nostalgia, he supposed, memories from the past. Which was also why he ducked his head and walked as quickly as possible past the arcade, and the Chinese food stall, and the park where students were screaming at each other.

Eventually, he did get to the station. But the sky’s dyed orange, and realising he’d been wandering around aimlessly the entire time also made him a little hungry. So he popped into the convenience store just beside the station, there was always a convenience store beside the station, and emptied his pocket to buy himself a kimbap.

Standing in the snow, his fingers a little too chilled to peel off the packaging swiftly, he had small thoughts about the song, no composition, that he’d just started working on the night before waiting for him in that house. And there was the guy too. In the living room, probably, frantically trying to get a hold of Jihoon’s phone. His fingers idly traced circles on his thigh.

So Jihoon finished the last of his kimbap and headed back. He took a deep breath before the door. It was a bad decision because the cold tickled his nose instead. But anyhow he’s opened the door now.

The guy stood up at the door opening. The thing that happened to be in his hand was the TV remote, so he chucked that at Jihoon.

“Where the fuck have you been?!”

All those hours outside, and Jihoon didn’t even have a single excuse planned. The guy strode across the distance between them to slam the door shut. There was that tell tale clench of the jaw and furrow of the brow. Jihoon squeezed his eyes shut just before the palm connected with his cheek.

“Do you know how worried I was? And look at you, absolutely no good reason for this rebellious behaviour!” Fingers came to tangle in Jihoon’s hair, pulling him into a room. “I worked so hard today, I had to take care of my ailing mother, and you can’t even be trusted enough to complete a simple delivery job?!”

There was the belt now, long, limp, and Jihoon shivered deeper into the bed.

“I’m so disappointed in you Jihoon. Do you really have nothing to say for yourself?”

Jihoon inhaled. “I’m sorry,” a beat, “Jingi.”

* * *

 

Sometimes people met in strange circumstances. 

Soonyoung’s heard the story of how his cousin met her best friend by getting her foot stuck in a drain. Even a good buddy of his met his boyfriend because he dropkicked the poor bloke from the second storey.

All along, they’ve felt like that’s all they were – stories. Tales. Barely real. Despite the fact that he’d cheered when Wen Junhui launched himself off the rail on a stupid dare, froze with everyone on scene at the sound of someone distinctively not Junhui groaning. But the memory felt more like watching the old reel of a movie than life itself. Perhaps it was only because he’d never had a run-in quite as unreal.

Here, he would fiddle with the pieces of broken phone that he’d put in his designated area in the pantry.

“Oh come on, it’s been a whole goddamn week since.” Someone slid into the seat beside him, he eyed the phone and looked back, giving him a pointed look.

Yes, it’d been a week ago when Soonyoung bumped into a guy on the street and broke his phone. A week since he’d arrived at the platform to see his train pull away, and triple checking the time on his watch, he couldn’t help but feel the pity of if only he hadn’t run into that person. But did he really run into someone? Someone whose reaction to their phone being destroyed was to laugh and cry simultaneously, and then they were gone, vanishing into thin air.

“Okay but consider this, I’m convinced that was not a real person.” Soonyoung said conspiratorially.

Seungkwan sighed and rolled his eyes in an extremely exaggerated way. He shoved a box of biscuits the other’s way. “Just take your snacks and finish your break and get back to work.”

“Receptionist from Hell.” Soonyoung mumbled.

Seungkwan retaliated by closing the lid on Soonyoung’s hand when it reached in for the baked goods.

“Look you’re probably never going to see the guy again. It’s going to be a great story at parties, or campfires, I’m sure. But I am personally over hearing about it.”

There was some merit to whatever he said. Soonyoung’s not even completely sure he’d recognise him if he saw him again, the mental image having gone through various alterations each time it was brought up until it was probably far from the original by now. But it was Seungkwan who said it, so Soonyoung’s inclined to turn his nose up about the matter.

And when Seungkwan sauntered out of the pantry with his biscuits, Soonyoung bit way too hard into the one in his hand.

He’d never see him again.

Unless he did.

And it was funny because he was sure he’d forgotten what he looked like by now, so when he finished up at the dance school, fell asleep on the train back, now walking through the street blankly, and he noticed a small figure sitting on the bench, draped in an oversized jacket, his feet went over on their own, possessed, while he thought in slight awe about which parts he’d remembered right, which he got wrong.

Jihoon looked up because his sun had been blocked. There was a guy he didn’t recognise standing in front of him.

“Hi.” That person waved.

“I don’t think I know you.” He replied.

There was a bit of blinking and a nervous laugh. “Well, I’m actually the idiot who broke your phone last week.”

He trailed off, seemingly to wait for recognition of some kind. Jihoon went, “oh.”

“Yeah I just wanted to apologise for that at least, you kind of just left.”

“It’s no problem.” Jihoon dismissed, ready for the stranger to shift, to go, to give him back the view he had of the road.

He had no such luck. “No, at least let me buy you a meal.”

Jihoon was going to tell him he’d had enough. He wasn’t hungry or interested in socialising, but his stomach beat him to the punch as a loud rumble passed through the space between them.

The stranger beamed. “Come on, I know this great Chinese food place nearby.”

Yeah, Jihoon knew it too. But he’s fresh out of excuses and the next thing he knew, he was falling into step with the stranger. What was that they taught kids in school? Stranger Danger?

“My name is Kwon Soonyoung, by the way.” The stranger, Soonyoung, announced. “What’s yours?”

“Just call me Woozi.” Jihoon said.

Soonyoung surprisingly didn’t bat an eyelash. Instead he grinned in a way his cheeks seemed to bloom, “how cute.” Nonchalant, like he was talking about the weather.

The walk to the restaurant was calm. Jihoon expected more noise from a person who would approach someone he barely knew on the street, but Soonyoung kept relatively silent. It was nice. Jihoon didn’t have to think of things to say.

He knew they were approaching the restaurant before they turned the corner, before Soonyoung stuck out his arm to gesture at the stall decorated in white and red.

“Tada!” He wiggled his fingers. “My friend’s parents own this place. The food’s great, I swear on his grave.”

Jihoon hummed. Well, he knew the second bit but the first was a surprise.

The two of them entered the doorway, taking turns to part the fabric dividers.

“Welcome!”

An elderly woman’s voice greeted. She must have been busy doing something at first, because the next second, she’s excitedly coming over, the tray haphazardly placed on the counter to free up her hands.

“Oh Soonyoung, it’s nice to see you again!” She cheered, squishing his cheeks.

“Hi aunty, you know I can’t go that long without your food.” Soonyoung practically sang.

“This is why you’re my favourite.” She gave his cheeks one final pinch, just noticing another guy lingering in the back. “A friend of yours?” She asked.

“More of an acquaintance, probably?” Soonyoung moved to let her get closer to him. She smiled and the next thing Jihoon knew, his own cheeks were being pulled at. All’s fair in this world, Soonyoung appeared to be saying with his eyes.

That seemed to be a habit of hers when greeting people younger than her, as natural as some people would wave. Jihoon’s seen her a hundred of times before and he never knew.

“Nice to meet you.” She greeted. “My, aren’t you adorable.”

Jihoon did not appreciate Soonyoung chuckling but he managed to choke out a greeting.

The lady released him soon after. “Hang up your outer wear and go seat wherever you want,” she instructed. “Oh it’s really been awhile since any of you came to visit poor old me, I’ll throw in extra service.” She winked at them.

“I was here last week!” Soonyoung whined, but he was sliding out of his coat all the same. Jihoon followed suit.

It’s been a long time since he came into this place; Jihoon trailed after Soonyoung to an open table in the middle.

He’d almost forgotten the menu entirely although he did know Jingi only ever ordered the jajangbap for them since it was his favourite. Generally, Jihoon preferred noodles.

“What would you like to have?” Soonyoung inquired, not really looking up from the menu.

“What would you recommend?”

“If you like jjamppong, you should definitely try theirs.” Soonyoung excitedly swung his hand. “Actually, even if you don’t like jjamppong, you should still try it.”

Jihoon pushed his menu away, accepting the suggestion.

Soonyoung nodded at him, moving to flag the lady over.

She came over in a jiffy, whipping out the pen and pad. “Dumplings on the house if you want any.”

“Oh definitely.” Soonyoung replied enthusiastically. “We’ll have one jjamppong and one jajangmyeon. And the dumplings.” He ticked off three fingers.

“And your drinks?”

“Tea for me,” Soonyoung answered, “what about you?” He looked at Jihoon.

Jihoon considered it. “Just water is fine.”

The lady scribbled it all down in her pad. “Well hang tight boys, it’s going to be a treat.” And she was off again.

“So…” Jihoon couldn’t help himself, “even if you don’t like jjamppong you should still try it, huh?”

Soonyoung laughed, eyes disappearing. “I’m not the biggest fan of spicy food. But everyone who has eaten it recommends it so its gotta be great.”

Jihoon shook his head at that, exhaling a mirthful breath that was not quite a laugh.

The lady came again a few times, first with drinks, then appetisers, then the meals, and sometimes just to share a word with Soonyoung. Jihoon reckoned there wasn’t a moment of quiet, Soonyoung talking to him if he wasn’t talking to her. It was quite a feat that he’d managed to eat any of his food at all.

Soonyoung was the kind to ask a lot of questions; Jihoon wasn’t too keen on answering them in detail. Somehow it worked out, because Soonyoung seemed to be content with receiving answers no matter how vague, always giving a response and moving on if the question hit a slump, no shortage of his own experiences to recount.

It was pleasantly lively, Jihoon thought. In the cosiness of the family restaurant, orange lights hanging overhead, rightfully praised jjamppong in front of him, indistinct chatter all around, and Soonyoung speaking to him.

But it was nearly over, Jihoon could tell. All good things had to come to an end. There were the last mouthfuls of water in his cup, the food scraped clean from their plates.

“Sorry about your phone again.” Soonyoung apologised. “I know a meal probably doesn’t compensate like at all…”

“It’s really alright. I got a replacement.”

Soonyoung bit his lip. “What about another meal? Besides you haven’t gotten to try their naengmyeon yet. I swear it’s a personal recommendation this time.”

Jihoon was unsure, silent.

“I’ll be here again tomorrow. At the same time. How about that?”

There was something in his look, his eyes so clear, Jihoon actually grew a little fearful. His throat feeling dry, he finished up the last of his water. And when he set down the glass, there was a brief reflection of himself in it, weariness staring back at him. So he said, “okay.”

Soonyoung broke out into a grin, teeth showing. He held up a pinkie.

The scene shifted for Jihoon, as the restaurant went back in time eight years. Most of it was the same, or maybe he didn’t properly remember what the place used to look like, but the person in front of him, clear as day, was Jingi in his high school uniform. His hair back to being the short, school-approved cut. And he was holding Jihoon’s wrist. Jihoon was mad, he knew not at what but just that he was.

“I won’t do it again.” Jingi hooked a pinkie around Jihoon’s limp one. “I promise.”

Jihoon shook the sight away, coming back to find Soonyoung peering at him with curiosity, the finger still upright.

‘What a bad idea.’ Jihoon heard his head say.

‘Don’t do it’. That was his heart.

Yet his hand extended, their pinkies entwined.

Soonyoung smiled again, he did that a lot. This time the action travelled across the place they were linked, infectious, until Jihoon felt that smile crept up from his chest to his lips.

The link came undone. They said goodbye at the door.

Jihoon watched the other guy travel down his path, shrinking until he was entirely gone. Then he thought about the house again. His back throbbed in response. There was half a song sitting on his computer, and he could see Jingi pacing about, Jingi drafting emails to ask for extensions, Jingi trying to call Jihoon’s new phone.

Right, his new phone. It was a smartphone this time, an old one of Jingi’s. He told Soonyoung he’d gotten a new one, hadn’t he? He didn’t mention that he smashed it against the sink of a public bathroom, and when it hadn’t broken like the flip phone did, he simply left it there.

That was too much of him, he thought. Because it wasn’t a cheap phone, and it was kind of a shitty thing to do, going around breaking functional things like that. What kind of monster was he? An ungrateful one. A selfish one.

His heart began to race. He really shouldn’t make Jingi mad, the poor man worked all day and all night to keep the two of them sheltered and clothed and fed, and it was thanks to him that Jihoon’s even got his current job, comfortably composing music. Hadn’t that been his dream? Yet here he was, thinking of petty things like feeling suffocated. How weak, when his suffering paled in comparison, whiter than all the snow he could see.

A heat rose up from his belly, one that twisted and writhed like it wanted to escape. Guilt. He had to get back to the house right now. He needed to.

And he was on his way, sincerely, when he passed the bench he had been sitting on just a few hours ago. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so small and insignificant as earlier. There was a line going through his head, just something he’d heard before a long time ago:

_Finger cut off, ten thousand fists, whoever lies has to swallow a thousand needles._

The words were a spell, bringing him to the bench. He sat there once more, the plastic feeling familiar under him.

He was looking out again, at the street, and somehow for the first time, despite how much time he’d already spent looking from the same place, for the first time, he noticed the colour of the sky.

It was already night since night came quicker in the winter, gradated seamlessly first into oranges then navy, like a dream. Rather than stars, the sky was lit up with the strings of fairy lights, Christmas decorations.

Tomorrow would be Christmas, Jihoon realised.

What did he do last Christmas, again? He couldn’t remember well. The Christmas before that? Nothing there either.

But there was one Christmas he remembered.

On the street, his hand held firm in another, swinging loosely. It was so warm, there were lights all around them playing with their shadows. Jingi came to a stop, so he stopped too. He looked up at him, tilted his head a bit, expectant.

“Move in with me?”

Jihoon smiled.

How many years had that been?

* * *

 

Soonyoung burst into the dance school with too much energy, leaving the bells by the door tinkling much too noisily, more of an intangible mess of sound than a jingle. 

Seungkwan snapped his head up from the counter with a frown.

“I knew it would be you.” He hissed. “Geez, that noise is terrible.”

But Soonyoung didn’t care, all but dashing up to the other male. “Guess what?” He exclaimed, slamming his palm on the table. Some of the people around turn to see.

“Oh help me, it could be literally anything with you.”

So Soonyoung was easily excitable. Sue him.

“I met him again!” It was almost a shout.

“Him?” Seungkwan questioned, raising a brow. “Narrows down the possibilities by half the population.”

This time Soonyoung swatted at him. “Dumbass, the guy whose phone I broke.”

Seungkwan’s mouth fell open in genuine surprise. “You weren’t lying?!”

“Yeah!” Soonyoung deflated prematurely. “Wait, you thought I was lying?”

“Well…” Seungkwan swallowed. “It was a little hard to believe, yeah? Just a teeny bit.” He held up an index and a thumb, mere millimetres from each other.

Soonyoung gasped, hand over his heart, walking away from his ‘friend’ in a huff. He ignored him when he put his things in the storeroom. Pointedly turned the other way while he taught the excited little kids a new dance move.

At lunch, Seungkwan came into the pantry with doughnuts, and Soonyoung crawled out of his cloud of pettiness to appreciate the sugar and good intentions.

“So about that guy, does he have a name?”

Soonyoung pursed his lips, dusted with powdered sugar. “No.”

“No? What about a job?”

“Hmm… no.”

“A description?”

“He’s kind of short?”

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes. “Give me back my doughnut.”

“I’m telling you he exists! In fact I’m going to meet him again later today!” Soonyoung cried exasperated, twisting to shield the pastry from Seungkwan’s fingers.

Seungkwan had this method of extracting the truth from people. He’d raise an eyebrow and stare into his target’s eyes with a look like he didn’t believe a single word, most people generally cracked under that. Soonyoung, especially, tended to crack even if he hadn’t actually told a lie.

So it was a bit of a different experience when he didn’t. Trying his best to meet the gaze head on and not disintegrate on the spot.

Honestly, Seungkwan had to congratulate that. He let out a sigh. “Is that so? Well, sure then, enjoy your date.”

By now, Soonyoung’d completely forgotten about his grand display of not even looking at Seungkwan, happily eating his food and thinking of dinner.

He’d initially just wanted to see the guy again, Woozi, was it? There was something about him kind of mysterious. The air about him was different, always seeming colder somehow. And his clothes weren’t the right size, hiding away most of him from sight. And his hair, barely kempt, stuck out in various ways like a porcupine. It felt like there was some isolation about him, not the world from him but him from the world. Which was weird, strange. Because there was so much depth in his eyes, so much light going into them, it left Soonyoung breathless.

“Earth to Soonyoung, it’s time for you to Soon-go to your next class.” Seungkwan clapped in his face.

“Ya I am still your hyung!” Soonyoung called out after him, but he was off his ass and grinning all throughout the lesson, throughout his entire shift, and throughout the long train ride back.

It’s only after he got off the platform that it occurred to him that it was Christmas and he couldn’t help feeling the awe about how little Christmas spirit there was in the air in the recent years. He wondered if he should get Woozi a present, what he’d like, or even whether it’d be appropriate considering how long they’ve known each other.

Most of the shops still open despite the season, barely any cheers to be heard. Soonyoung passed all of that in a hurry, might as well go straight to the restaurant, who knew if Woozi was already there and he wasn’t going to keep someone waiting.

He did anyway. The shorter male already standing in front of the shop, hands stuffed into his pockets. That jacket still oversized, his hair messier than before. Soonyoung skipped up to him.

“Sorry did I make you wait long?”

 

_“Sorry, I had some extra work to finish up.”_

 

Jihoon shook his head.

“Great! Should we head in then?” He pointed his thumb towards entrance. 

He was expecting Jihoon to move first. Which was kind of reasonable, given their relative positions, so Jihoon made to do so but it was too foreign, feeling the presence of somebody creeping from behind. He hoped it didn’t show on his face too much.

“It’s you again!” The lady chirruped, striding over to press at his cheeks, looking the same as she did yesterday.

“And Soonyoung too.” She reached for the other. “Two days in a row? Is this what they call a Christmas miracle?”

“Merry Christmas, aunty!” He greeted, holding onto her hand. “Of course there’s no better place to enjoy the holiday!”

The lady laughed with a hohoho sound, ushering them inwards. They hung their clothes and walked to the same table out of familiarity.

They don’t even look at the menu this time as Soonyoung confidently said, “so as I mentioned, the naengmyeon is perfection.”

“Naengmyeon in the winter?” Jihoon questioned, brow raised.

“My dear friend, if you eat cold food in cold weather, then your inside will be too cold to feel the cold outside.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Soonyoung tsked at him, wagging a finger. “Science,” a pause too long, “fascinating.”

Jihoon snickered, but he allowed Soonyoung to order two servings of the cold dish with extra dumplings on the side, and a cup of tea and,

“Water for you again?”

“Okay.”

Surprisingly, the naengmyeon was nice, just enough smoothness of the noodle and saltiness of the broth, and maybe it was the efficient heating system in the stall because it really wasn’t cold, eating his noodles in silence while Soonyoung talked about something regarding Christmas.

As if on cue, a female idol group’s song came on the radio, appropriately Christmas themed.

Soonyoung lit up. “Oh I love this song!”

“Really?” Jihoon implored.

He might have been too unsettled in his face because Soonyoung shrunk back, scratched his cheek.

“Do you think that’s weird? Well I think it’s really soothi-”

“No!”

Jihoon wasn’t aware his voice would leave him that loud, momentarily calling attention from the rest of the restaurant.

“I mean, I don’t think it’s weird.” He murmured. “I just… it was unexpected.”

“What do _you_ think about it?”

“No comment.” Jihoon said, looking down, cheeks red. He couldn’t say anything about a song he’d written, good or bad, that would be painfully awkward, a weight on his tongue.

Soonyoung narrowed his eyes for just awhile. “You don’t have to be ashamed of what you like.” He said, but it was a whisper much too soft for Jihoon to hear with his head hidden away.

“Huh?” Jihoon prompted.

“Nothing.” Soonyoung dismissed. “Hey how would you like to get ice cream after this?”

There was only soup left in their bowls.

“More cold?”

“See, it gets more advanced. If you get colder than the outside, then heat will travel _into_ you. Pure genius.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. But then Soonyoung had paid, and wished the lady a Merry Christmas once more, strolling out into the wintry street, Jihoon in tow. The streets were brightly lit, all sorts of colours spilling down on the paths.

It was a sight to behold. 

People all around, paired two by two, filled almost every inch of the pavement. Exuberant sounds permeated about, drifting ever further apart, a sense of joy diffusing across the vicinity.

When was the last time he felt such a scene?

Jihoon stepped in sync with Soonyoung, right, left, right, left. They said nothing for it was already too loud surrounding them, but that was alright. All was good.

And when Soonyoung turned a corner, the ice cream shop coming into view, the sight of the old man hunched over his display appearing before them, Jihoon halted.

It’s like Soonyoung could feel it somehow, that there was no longer someone following him. Woozi stood still a few metres away, something very sad on his face.

It was Soonyoung’s instinct. To cross over into the other’s space, to cup his face with his hands, worried.

“Are you okay?”

 

_“What’s wrong with you?!”_

_Jihoon flinched._

_“You know I don’t like strawberry. Wow, I can’t believe this, like I would never buy green tea for you because I know you don’t like it but this is the kind of compensation I get?”_

_There was cold and pink splattered on the front of his shirt._

_He went back to the stall._

_“Uncle, one chocolate cone please.”_

_“Didn’t you just order?”_

_“I dropped it.” Jihoon lied._

_“A clumsy boy, eh?” He smiled, two teeth missing on the bottom row. Preparing the ice cream was as easy as breathing to him, swift and natural. Chocolate cone all done, he handed it to Jihoon._

_“You watch yourself now.”_

_Jihoon went back._

_Jingi was kissing a girl._

_She saw him first. Eyes hardened, she walked right over to smack his across the face._

_Left a stinging sensation on his cheek, cold._

 

Jihoon yanked himself away, Soonyoung gaping at the suddenness of it all. 

With Soonyoung in front, and the old man behind, Jihoon figured he couldn’t bear to be anywhere they could see him. A monster. Ugly, ungrateful, selfish.

He took off in the opposite direction. Soonyoung was chasing after him, he heard his name carried by the wind, heard it hauntingly clearly despite the bustle about. But he couldn’t bear to be seen, simply couldn’t bear it.

And maybe he should have been more aware that ice was slippery, a foot sliding when it should have been planted, brought him tumbling into the snow in a mess of limbs.

That gave Soonyoung ample time to catch up. The cold was biting into Jihoon’s skin now but he much preferred that than to see Soonyoung and know that he saw him. Maybe if it would bite until his features were changed completely.

Of course, because it was Soonyoung, he allowed no such thing, knelt over and plucked Jihoon up.

“My house is nearby, Soonyoung exhaled, “let’s get you patched up.”

Jihoon figured the cold must have frozen his brain, because he went along without a single protest. Approached an unknown apartment complex with the slightest of limps to his walk. He had an arm draped around Soonyoung, his forearm firmly held, another heat on his waist.

The sofa was soft and cotton. Soonyoung’s fingers were deft and gentle. Jihoon had his long sleeves rolled up to his elbows; Soonyoung didn’t seem to think there were any unnatural injuries, applying ointment and wrapping bandages.

He tried to tend to his legs too, but Jihoon grabbed for his wrist then, coiling too tight. Soonyoung tugged back, rising back to show his surrender.

Instead, he ran off for just a while, coming back with a heat pack that he pressed into Jihoon’s cheek.

A beautiful warmth blossomed there. Jihoon let his eyes slip close for just a moment.

When they next open, there is sunlight coming in from the windows, he brought his knees closer into himself, only to realise he was covered with a blanket, thick and patterned with stars.

He peeled it off to assess himself; clothes still intact, white strips along his arms. There was no Soonyoung to be found yet. He stood up, testing the function of his legs as he did, relieved to know the limp was minute enough that it could be slept off.

Then he was out the door.

Somewhat regretting not spending extra time looking for his jacket, he trudged on. No money for a ride, unwilling to ask, he walked. The house was only a few bus stops away – he could do it.

Which he did.

Before that familiar door, Jihoon ripped off all the bandages Soonyoung put on him with trembling fingers. He skipped past taking a deep breath as he pushed open the door. It creaked loudly.

Inside, all was dark, not a single lamp in use, but Jingi stumbled out of his room all the same. It was hard to see with the lack of light but at this point Jihoon could pretty much visualise it without seeing, without hearing.

And he was probably correct because the next moment, he was being thrown onto the floor, rough hands around his throat, crushing it.

Thankfully he was much too cold to feel all that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- i hope you err enjoyed(?) had a grand time(?), ma dudes
> 
> \- can you believe this was inspired by the 'fairy woozi' comment?  
> \--- and i haven't even gotten to the particular moment/ image of it yet
> 
> \- it's multi-chaptered this time because i think it's going to be a long one and i'm busy.  
> \--- fun fact: i used to be so happy with reaching 3k words per chapter but it's like i grew older and it just extended...  
> \--- please don't ask why the dance school opens on christmas.
> 
> \- more fun facts: jingi and giyeon i got from a name generator. i picked seo because it looked like ceo hurhur
> 
> \- wonhui has yet to officially appear but i will tag it as such anyway! currently debating on whether to make booseok a thing, lol
> 
> \- finally, i don't know if i should plug because i'm not active and have never mentioned prior but my twitter is @soon_uwu_hoon
> 
> \- see you next chapter v(*’-^*)-☆


	2. january

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- !! warning !! still domestic violence but again nothing graphic  
> \- language just a little bit  
> \- made minor edits to the tag  
> \- notes at the end
> 
> \- banjjak banjjak is onomatopoeia for twinkle/ sparkle

“Do you know happens to the naughty children who misbehave?”

It was a favourite line of his elementary school teachers’ who would follow this up with a slap to the wrist, or a twist of the ear, or a half hour banishment to the corner that felt like an eternity. But then the last bell of the day would ring and they would walk him gently by the hand to the entrance to wait for his parents.

“That’s enough of that Lee Jihoon!”

Sometimes his mother said that, her chest heaving and an incredible fire in her eyes. Those times were rare but when they do happen, Jihoon would be made to kneel in his room, a few lashes of the cane across his butt.

Yet without fail, when night rolled around, she would tuck him into bed, made sure the blanket covered his every inch, and she would press kisses onto his forehead, whispering ‘I love you’s.

“Fucking answer me!”

Jingi screamed. Jingi screamed an awful lot at Jihoon. He grabbed the shorter guy by the collar, shoved him into the wall with a dull thud.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” He demanded. Jihoon thought about the time he spent in the snow, the time spent with Soonyoung, both experiences too incredibly pure and white – pristine – to taint by letting Jingi know of them.

So he lied.

“Nowhere in particular.”

His voice was soft.

Jingi softened, hold going limp without warning. “You know I’m only like this because I care.” His palms were just placed on Jihoon’s face but Jihoon tensed at the force he felt behind each finger. “Tell me where you’ve been.”

Jihoon held his jaw lax, he didn’t want to bite his tongue lest it told of his dishonesty.

“Nowhere.” He whispered.

Then he felt himself being dragged forward, it was a dizzying motion that passed by him in a blur, and he dully came to realise what would happen next. Ah. Pain exploded against the back of his skull in the next moment, slammed against the wall. He groaned.

“Ahhh I’m sick of this now.”

Jingi let go, letting Jihoon slump forward.

“You’ve been a very bad boy Jihoon,” Jihoon felt his blood run cold. “And you know what happens to bad boys.”

He did know.

Hit until their mistakes were branded into their skin as reminders. Sent to their rooms without their meals. Put to honest labour to repent for their sins.

So the door shut with a resounding click, not too loud but very firm. There was the clear sound of the lock turning. Jihoon collapsed onto his bed where he laid curled, trying his best to push into the softness of the mattress. It was a little hard to breathe, both because his knees were too close to his chest and because one of Jingi’s elbows landed right into his sternum.

The seconds bled into each other, transforming into a foggy quilt. Tick tock. Jihoon hacked into his hand. Tick tock. Fingers blindly traced what he knew would be bruises but he’d yet to look, he didn’t quite want to. They were mainly along his legs and body. Jingi always tried to avoid his hands and never touched his face. Tick tock.

Once, Jingi opened the door a tiny gap where light spilled in. Through that space, he slipped in a bunch of files of various colours – production documents. Then the light was gone. Jihoon knew what he had to do immediately. He sat up with effort, crossed the space to the door whilst holding his abdomen, gingerly picked up the files.

A number of things in his room were faulty. Like the doorknob, that was broken from his side, the inside. Or the fuse in the bulb that blew, the light unable to come on, hasn’t for a while now, so Jihoon’s got to use the lamp on his desk. It was a powerful light. And he slipped on his headphones, scanned through one of the documents at random as the computer whirred to life in the background.

_ We are looking for a bittersweet love song as part of the group’s foray into experimenting with various diverse concepts. Previously, they’ve only shown their strong, masculine image so this time around we’d like to showcase a mellower, more delicate side… _

Bittersweet love song?

Jihoon could hear an inspiration already. It sounded like metal breaking, and the ambience of the street, and bandages winding round and round. His chest was hurting again so he threw himself into a different world behind the screen, where everything was just melody and penned words.

He preferred that world. It was his element, in a sense, easy to slip into, easy to fall in love with. A place where his words flowed freely and music filled up the deafening silence. But the world was like a dream, and Jihoon would always wake, running out of ideas or running out of steam, whichever came first.

More time passed, well presumably, there was no real way of knowing its passage in that room. Without a single clock around, and the one on the computer never set up. Jihoon could not know. And what he could not know could not matter.

Besides, Jingi knew and when the time was appropriate, he would come by himself to open the door, and ask,

“Have you made progress with the files I gave you?”

Jihoon would nod.

“Pass them here.”

And Jihoon placed the thumb drive on the expectant palm. Jingi dropped a plastic bag, one from the convenience store, into his arms.

The exchange was finished.

There were bits of snow clinging to the bag. Inside, a couple of sandwiches, some energy bars, and two bottles of water. They were all cold.

And it was just Jihoon by himself, curled up in his chair, biting into a stale sandwich, staring out of the far away window onto the farther away scenery of the outside. How much time had passed since he came back here, every time he looked out the window it felt like it must be a new day. Like that it must have easily been at least a month that had gone by, time leaving him in the dust.

But it was definitely January 1st, a mere week after Christmas, when Jingi reluctantly passed over a new phone to him along with more convenience store food. Jihoon knew this for a fact because of the little device. Jingi continued to open the door, and take, and give, and leave.

He must be mad. Jihoon thought. _I’ve made him so mad._

Why had he done that? What demon possessed him to sneak out on Christmas Eve despite having no place in festivities or merry times?

Truthfully he did know. He knew that very moment his phone broke, crushed under the heel of someone he’d bumped into. Just like that something could be severed. So ridiculously easy, it was unimaginable.

Because there had been so many things Jihoon hated. He hated the way Jingi changed like seasons came and went. He hated that he brushed away his friend’s warnings, turned his back on them and allowed Jingi to cut them off on his behalf.

But worst of all, he hated that he never had the courage to leave.

Another day passed, this time Jihoon knew this for sure through the numbers flashing upon his palm. He’d spent all his time working, whether on more songs or adjusting some of the others based on the feedback from the companies. Perhaps soon Jingi would let him out again, the gap in the door had been getting wider with each opening as Jihoon worked hard.

Perhaps that day would be today, Jihoon could just feel something different in the air. It was hard to pinpoint, but it started in the morning when he woke with a feeling that the air was lighter than usual. And then Jingi came to do the usual, except this time he threw in an extra comment. “You’re doing good Jihoon-ah.”

And when Jingi came back that night, the way the main door opened was unlike the usual. A bit more strength used? Jihoon couldn’t quite put a finger on how. But he’d quickly moved to the door anyway, hoping.

The first thing his ears registered was Jingi laughing. His heart fell already. Another laugh floated by, airy and youthful and female.

Jihoon was transfixed, taking in every sound as the giggles dissolved into fierce kisses, lips smacking sloppily, into moans and cries and skin slapping skin in time with the creaking of the bed.

Even when he slept, he heard it in his dreams.

The next morning came, with the air feeling just as light, and the sound of the main door when Jingi left the house different yet again, mingled with the girl leaving with him.

Jihoon blinked a couple of times in the silence, his legs hanging off the bed. Then he got up, picked up his phone, flipping it this way and that in his hand.

New year. He swallowed.

New you. He flung the thing as hard as he could at the window.

Crack and Shatter.

Crawling out was harder than he expected, with no way to completely avoid the jagged pieces of broken glass. Well, he’d just go through then.

And standing back on the road, the poor phone left on the floor from his throw, he had neither a jacket nor a place to go. So he allowed his feet to take him wherever it wanted. Too much wind in his face to think, and maybe he was bleeding a little bit. He recognised the places he passed, the park, the Chinese food stall, the stairwell of an apartment complex. Here, he became too tired to think so he sat on the bottom of the steps.

Many people pass him by, their footsteps echo on the concrete, fast ones, slow one, the click of a heel, the squeak of a sneaker. Some of them look at him for longer than others but nobody stayed at all. It was really cold. Jihoon’s vision was starting to get blurry, and in that haze he thought he saw someone stop in front of him, a crease in his brows as he draped stars across Jihoon’s shoulders.

He thought it must have been an angel.

* * *

 

Soonyoung was sulking, as much as he wanted to deny it. Seungkwan would come into his area, some kind of confectionary in hand, and tell him he was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, sulking. Soonyoung’s reaction was to sulk even more.

Since an early point of their conversation, Seungkwan managed to piece together that the elder’s mood was directly related to whatever happened last Christmas so he’d refrained from asking about it again. That didn’t mean he was going to put up with this moping around forever.

“Hyung, look things are obviously not okay with you and it’s best to let it out sooner than later. You know I’ll help you if I could, or at least listen well.”

Soonyoung smiled, though it was smaller and sadder, he ruffled his friend’s hair.

“Thanks Kwannie, but it’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

Seungkwan squinted like he didn’t buy it but the short hand struck 2 and it was time to get back to work for now. They parted ways.

Soonyoung gathered some of his things, making his way to his designated practice room. He was genuinely appreciative of Seungkwan’s efforts but it was not something he wanted to confront, finding it too hard to label his feelings, even to himself.

He felt dumped.

Which was ridiculous because it was impossible to be dumped by someone you were not dating. Yet, he wouldn’t even put it as rejection, because he hadn’t been trying to get further with the guy, not yet anyway. Did he think he was cute? Definitely. Did he want to go on a date with him? Possibly, but again, not yet.

Soonyoung was just getting to know this funny fellow, whose speech was short and clipped and his actions a little strange, but his eyes were a kaleidoscope and Soonyoung couldn’t help feeling fascinated.

But the guy ran from him. If he were being technical about it, he ran twice, only stopped by the ice the first time around. It stung Soonyoung’s pride.

He’d thought they were pulling closer, that he was being granted permission to see something sacred and special, but then the ground cracked beneath his feet and it was all as distant as the horizon, as illusive as a mirage.

Woozi.

The first time there was a phone to prove he existed. The second, there was a winter jacket left folded on his dining table, but Soonyoung wasn’t quite so sure he wanted to think about him ever again.

Which was as good as advertising to the universe that he was missing the guy, and the universe sometimes granted wishes at the most inconvenient of times.

Two days into the new year had Soonyoung scrambling about his apartment, almost late yet again (this time it was for Kim Soohyun), with Seungkwan’s nagging already ringing in his ears. He grumbled when he didn’t manage to insert the key into the lock exactly for the first few attempts, so close and yet so far. Almost considered out of the house but not really. Almost able to stick his freezing fingers in his gloves but not really.

And when he got to the lift, there was the flashing of ‘under repair’ on its screen. Soonyoung almost kicked the door. But he hadn’t got time for that, bounding for the stairs instead. Oh why did he live so many floors up? 13th storey? God bless his legs as they went down as fast as they could, pitter patter pitter patter.

Then he reached the last flight and his legs just stopped, frozen up. Sitting on the steps, small and shivering, a figure he never thought he’d see again. His first instinct was to shake him, demand an explanation but that wouldn’t be too nice of him. The guy looked was wearing nothing but a long sleeved shirt and jeans in this godforsaken temperature.

So Soonyoung knew what he had to do instead. Turned right back around to sprint the way he came, took the steps two by two, squeezing out all his remaining energy. He threw open the door to his apartment, rushing straight for the nearest blanket. Then he was going back down, his door unlocked, the blanket soft in his arms.

Back to him before he froze to death, before he left again. And when Soonyoung put the blanket around him, he also looked into his eyes and wasn’t quite sure he saw himself back. Soon those eyes slipped shut completely, body falling against Soonyoung.

For then he was content, with the other guy compliant and encircled within his arms. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t run away. Maybe this time Soonyoung would try to make him stay.

* * *

 

 

“Jin…gi?”

The figure said nothing, grabbing his hand to rub circles on his knuckles. It couldn’t be Jingi then. But his eyelids were feeling heavy again, too heavy to figure out the shapes scattered across his vision.

* * *

 

“Mmm what are you cooking?”

Jihoon looked over his shoulder to see Soonyoung shuffling into the kitchen, a hand absentmindedly stuck up his shirt, hair sticking straight up. He returned to look at the pan.

“Ham and eggs.” He replied.

“Looks good.” Soonyoung commented, walking past him to rummage the fridge. Jihoon averted his gaze. Soonyoung was a filthy liar, he could already see bits of the egg turning much too brown. But he does manage to get the food to a passable enough stage, struggling to slide the spatula under the items without them flying straight out of the pan.

He placed them on their plates, half each with slightly more on Soonyoung’s, and carried them over to the dining table. Soonyoung’s already seated, two glasses of orange juice set up at each end.

“I’m sorry in advance. I don’t cook often.” Jihoon pouted.

But Soonyoung was smiling at him from across the table. “I’ll eat well~” He said as if that was an appropriate response, attacking the egg with his fork.

In comparison, Jihoon sidled into his seat, picked up his utensils but paused in his actions to observe Soonyoung first.

“Isss dewisious.” He said through a chew.

Jihoon’s toes curled, lips dry. “Finish chewing before you speak.”

So Soonyoung swallowed deliberately obviously, then with a smile that showed a lot of teeth, “it’s delicious.”

Jihoon huffed, embarrassed. “You’re going to be late to work.”

It wasn’t meant to be the truth but Soonyoung made a glance towards the clock, did a double take, and shot out of his seat right after.

“SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIiiit.”

He held the shout as he bounced from one room to another, the voice sounding like it ebbed and grew to Jihoon who stayed where he was. Jihoon found it impossible not to laugh.

After much hopping, Soonyoung got to the main door. He turned around to catch Jihoon, still sat but leaning out of the chair to face him.

“I’ll be going!”

Jihoon mentally slapped himself for thinking it sounded domestic, hand coming up to wave instead.

“See you later.” He said that more toned down.

And Jihoon was left alone in the apartment, staring at the closed door.

How quaint, how strange, how bizarre, he still couldn’t quite believe the circumstances, like it merely played out before him instead of happen. But how else was he supposed to understand his situation?

Him in Soonyoung’s house. Him in Soonyoung’s chair. Him in Soonyoung’s clothes.

When he walked all the way to the apartment that day, he kind of knew what he was doing but not what he expected. He could have gone up, gone straight to the door and knocked except that he lost all his courage as soon as he arrived at the steps. Maybe he’d bled it all out. All that remained was exhaustion and numbness, mixed and faded to black.

Here and there he would be aware, pockets of conscience exploding out of the vast nothingness. The things that happened during those times were hard to remember though, his senses forgetting how to function, or maybe it was his brain that forgot how to make sense of it. But then one day the dawn rose, and so did he, starting from the head to the toe, his body coming awake.

The ceiling was unfamiliar. The walls a lighter colour than those of his room. He looked down at the blanket, star patterned, covering him and realised he must be in Soonyoung’s place.

Soonyoung stuck his head in then, as if called. He found Jihoon sitting up, staring blearily and he came over in less than two steps.

“Are you feeling better?”

Jihoon’s throat was rusty with disuse. “What?” He croaked.

Silently, Soonyoung pressed the back of his fingers into Jihoon’s cheek. He released a relieved sigh. “You’re warm now.” He said it so softly, so delicately, Jihoon had to look up or he thought the sound would slip away. Then the fingers flipped over to pinch a bit of his cheek.

“Then what did you think you were doing out there, you crazy person?!” Soonyoung nagged.

That’s right Soonyoung was the type to ask a lot of questions.

“I…” _I’m not willing to tell you._

“Well, I’m just thankful I found you, who knows what could have happened.”

And to accept whenever Jihoon didn’t want to answer.

“Let me get you something warm to eat. Stay here okay.”

There was a funny unidentifiable tinge to his last line. Jihoon pulled up his knees to rest his head on them. There were bandages on his forearm and palms, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

It started to rain.

He ate whatever Soonyoung got for him. Then Soonyoung lent him some clothes, told him to take a shower. He did that. And when he came out, Soonyoung attended to his cuts again.

Keeping in character, Soonyoung asked his questions but not once did he ever ask if Jihoon had to leave. So Jihoon didn’t bring it up himself. An elephant in the room, and Soonyoung and Jihoon under the same roof, sharing the same bed.

“Just use anything you want.” Soonyoung casually told him. “My number’s written by the phone, you can call if you need too.”

It had been a few days since the new arrangement. Sometimes Jihoon had a nearly uncontrollable urge to run away. It would be so easy too, the door was always right there. And there was no real reason to stay. Here he was a burden, unnecessary extra expenses, occupying space, imposing. Back, he had a room, a space that was mostly his, all his work on the computer, all the songs of his soul, and a boyfriend on the couch. Back was supposed to be his home.

Jihoon would get to the door, but then he’d feel equally bad for leaving Soonyoung without a word, so instead he’d clench his fist and go back around. Soonyoung’s house was small, designed for one. The bathroom connected to the kitchen on one side, the bedroom on the other. He could go to every corner in a matter of seconds. It didn’t help with that itch still persisting in his chest, and he’d found Soonyoung’s vacuum by chance so he figured why not?

Soonyoung came back that night with a new toothbrush and takeaway chicken and a shock at the unusual smoothness to the floor, “wow you cleaned up? You didn’t need to.”

But Jihoon shook his head. “It’s the least I could do.”

Soonyoung accepted that.

So the day after, Jihoon found the broom, the mop, the duster. Along with a bunch of CDs with faces of idols he recognised, and song titles he knew even more dearly. He put those away quickly.

Then he opened the fridge and found a despairing lack of actual food. Well, Jihoon once learnt that as long as there is rice and egg, you can throw anything else into the pan and call it fried rice, which was exactly what he did.

And he made sure to keep a bit for Soonyoung, just as a token. Of appreciation or gratitude or something else entirely he didn’t want to think about. Soonyoung came back around the time he always did, saw the food that was laid out for him and his eyes sparkled.

“I could kiss you right now.”

It was a careless statement. Jihoon didn’t speak a word for the rest of the night.

* * *

 

 

Soonyoung never considered himself a light sleeper. As a matter of fact, his friends could probably attest that he was a terrible pain to have to wake.

But recently, his life had been flipped upside down in that funny way where it didn’t seem like anything’s really changed at all, like he was the only one to see it. Nowadays, he woke up to breakfast being cooked, and bought his toiletries and groceries with an extra person in mind.

And sometimes in the middle of the night he would feel something wrong, whether it was the sudden awareness of having too much space on the mattress or the subtle shift in temperature, he did not know. What he did know was that there was only him on the bed and that was not normal anymore.

He’d always find Woozi by the main door, with his face hidden in the shadows, and a hand massaging his wrist. He wondered what kind of expression the other was wearing.

And he wouldn’t be able to keep silent for too long. “Are you going to go?”

Every time he asked it, Woozi would turn back unfazed, like he already knew Soonyoung was there, and he’d pad over without a word. Soonyoung would grab his hand, leading them both back to bed, and as soon as they were both back to sleeping position, let go. Facing each other like a mirror. And like poking at a mirror, whereupon it would result in a gap between the finger and the reflection, their hands laying apart by mere millimetres.

* * *

 

It was a lovely day, an uncommonly warmer one in a season of butt freezing iciness.

Seungkwan was in a good mood too, which he showed by bringing freshly made pretzels for everyone.

“By the way hyung, you know Park Jimin from your last class of the day?”

Of course.

“His mother’s going to be late picking him up today, think you could wait with him before you go home?”

There was no reason to refuse. When the lesson ended, he sat with the little boy, who was looking downcast at the other kids from his class getting to go home. Soonyoung gave him the pretzel he’d been saving.

“Cheer up sport, I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

“I’m okay, Mama’s always late so I’m used to it.”

It was such a sad thing to say. Soonyoung stroked his hair. “Want to play a game?”

He racked his brain for one of those simple games he used to play as a kid. Lord knew when the last time he played one of those was, and he was also concerned about the generation gap. He heard today’s kids were all about the tablets and the handheld gaming consoles.

Jimin tilted his head. “What sort of game?”

“Hmm what about ‘I spy’?”

“What’s that?”

Wow he felt old.

“Like, I describe something that we both can see and you have to try to find it. We’ll take turns. For example,” He did a quick scan around. “I spy with my little eye, something loud.”

Jimin looked around for a bit, then shook his head.

“It’s Uncle Seungkwan.”

“I heard that!” Seungkwan boomed from his counter.

“See?” Soonyoung pointed a finger.

It was a pretty shitty example but Jimin laughed, and that was good enough for them to start the game proper.

The concept of the game was a simple listing of things spottable in the environment but it kept Jimin happy so it made Soonyoung happy.

“I spy with my little eye, something small.” Jimin said on one of his turns. That was a lot of things, Soonyoung asked for another hint.

“It’s banjjak banjjak.” He added, opening and closing his hands like imitating lights flashing. He looked proud of himself.

Soonyoung turned back to look, catching sight of something but he turned back and pretended to think hard. “Please give me one more hint.”

Jimin giggled, gave it some thought, and said, “if it stays with you, you can get magic powers.”

It must be a reference to a show Soonyoung didn’t know, but he fake pondered a bit more before he answered, “a fairy?” The image of the creature printed on one of the girl’s backpacks fresh in his head. Jimin cheered excitedly. It was cute.

A woman came in then, looking tall in her five-inch stilettos, expensive bag hanging off her arm, shades Gucci. Jimin spotted her first.

“Mama!”

“Yes, let’s go Jimin, quickly.”

Just as swiftly as she’d come, she was gone again, Jimin trailing behind her. He did turn once more to give Soonyoung a wave goodbye. Soonyoung made sure to wave back and look until the two were completely out of sight.

An unexpectedly long time had passed without his noticing. He went to Seungkwan after, to announce he’d done his task and was going to head home. He was not quite sure if Seungkwan properly heard what he said because the other was a little too preoccupied smiling at his phone. During office hours no less, tsk tsk.

He set off, into the cold that wasn’t quite as cold as it could be, tapped his foot impatiently as he counted down the sixteen stops. On the way, he passed by many food stalls and each time he wondered if he should buy something just in case, if there will be any light on when he reached home, but he decided to lift his head and put a spring to his steps.

When he opened the door there was the smell of detergent in the air, and food spread under a food cover, and Woozi curled up on the couch, fast sleep, wearing his clothes that were a little too big on the other.

Soonyoung thought of that one kissing comment he made that one time.

“I’m back.” He said, shaking the guy awake.

Woozi stirred, peeking out from under his arms.

“Hehe, sup, do you want to have dinner now?”

The guy put out a hand. Soonyoung grinned, pulling it so that they were both standing.

“Okay.”

Soonyoung led the way to the dining area, even though it was only a few steps away. The food had gone a little cold but they were too lazy to heat it back up. Instead, Soonyoung was wolfing down the food, hungry after the long day.

“How was your day?” He asked, a grain of rice stuck to his lip.

“Fine.” Jihoon bit his chopstick.

“Thanks for sorting out the DVDs.”

Jihoon sputtered, Soonyoung smiled, food in his cheek like a hamster.

“Anyway, I met this really cute kid today. Can you believe he didn’t know what ‘I spy’ was though?!”

Because it was Soonyoung, there was more sound, filling up the room around them. Clinking of utensils on plates, and recounts of the day, and boisterous laughter all the time.

The bubble of sound moved where they went. Even when Jihoon was standing by the sink in the kitchen, Soonyoung beside him, his arms submerged in the soap and water. Jihoon was going to do it initially but Soonyoung cited his bandages and took over. Instead, Jihoon stood nearby to wipe the dishes dry as Soonyoung passed them to him. Everything was good.

Knock knock on the door.

Pop went the bubble.

Crash, the plate in Jihoon’s hand.

A person at the door, there was a person at the door. It could be anyone, it could be Jingi. Jihoon wanted to hide, he had to hide. The door closest to him was the one leading to the toilet. He might as well.

Soonyoung was startled at first, but he quickly regained his sense, ready to chase after the shadow.

“Ya Kwon Soonyoung is everything okay in there?”

Ah. Soonyoung knew that voice. Wait, what was the date? Soonyoung’s eyes widened. He got to the door in a jiffy, no wonder Seungkwan had been so distracted all day.

“Lee Seokmin!” He greeted, throwing himself at the guy.

Seokmin pulled back so he could lock every muscle in his body. “I’m back.” He said as robotically as possible.

Soonyoung smacked him on the arm. “Is this the kind of shit you picked up in Japan?”

Seokmin wiggled his eyebrows playfully, taking off his shoes when the other stepped to the side.

“I also picked up souvenirs but now I don’t think I want to give them to you.” Seokmin teased, but then he got to the interior of Soonyoung’s apartment and he looked around. “Wow… you really cleaned up.”

He didn’t notice Soonyoung throw a panicked look. “You know what they say,” he said, pulling his shoulders up too high, “new year, new you.”

Thankfully, Seokmin was pretty simple minded, and not about to raise his eyebrows over terribly planned New Year resolutions. (“Hmm…” he went) Instead, he carried his bags straight to the kitchen, a path he was familiar with, and unloaded them onto the counter.

“Anyway have you talked to Seungkwan yet?” It was a distraction.

Hands pause from their task. “I’m going to see him right after this actually.” Seokmin said, sporting a small blush, a finger scratching the bridge of his nose. “I’m taking him to that restaurant in Gangnam.”

Soonyoung almost broke his foot in his attempt to face the other male. “Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, are you going to ask him out?”

The answer was in the form of eyebrow waggling.

“For shit! Finally! I can’t believe! Ya Lee Seokmin!” Soonyoung was grabbing him by the cheek now. Then, when he regained enough of his wits, voice gentler, smiling, “I’m really happy for you.”

Seokmin was visibly embarrassed. “Thanks, hyung. You know, it’s funny, Japan is my favourite country in the world but during this trip, I kept thinking about coming back. I guess what you said was true: how you see the same sky is up to the angle of your hear-“

“NOOOOOO!” Soonyoung covered his ears. “When will you guys let me live?!”

But Seokmin was laughing.

“But they’re good words hyung.” He said, faux-innocence in the batting of his eyelashes.

“They’re Kyary Pamyu Pamyu. Just go on your stupid date already. And I take back all my support.” Soonyoung sniffled.

However, Seokmin was undeterred. He put away the last of the gifts with unfaltering gusto, a pack of white chocolate cookies, and then he’s headed for the door. “We’ll get coffee on another day, promise!” He called instead of saying goodbye.

“Away with you!” Soonyoung yelled. So Seokmin brought himself and his laughter trailing down the hall, leaving an empty sort of silence back at the apartment.

Soonyoung closed the door, then he padded over to the toilet to lean on its entrance. It was one of those plastic kinds that slid instead of popping out. He thought he felt something press back on the other side. Words filled up his lungs and his mouth that forgot how to move.

“They’ll make a cute couple.” He said at last.

“You know, I’ve known Seokmin since we were tots. He’s a good guy. As for Seungkwan, I only got to know him a bit more recently but the two of them hit it off the moment they met.”

The door moved, he felt the weight disappear off his back but was too late to react. The next moment, he felt arms wrapped around his abs. Woozi holding him. Whether it was a lack of strength or just too much height on Soonyoung’s part it wasn’t clear, but they went down. Not really a crash, much slower, a sinking sort of fall. Enough time that Jihoon could position Soonyoung’s head on his thighs, and Soonyoung didn’t just land smack on his butt on the tiled floor of the toilet.

“And Seungkwan was the most willing thing but Seokmin always took things slow and steady, it was kind of painful to watch.”

There were tears in his eyes. Jihoon didn’t want to see that so he covered them with his palm. It’s as if his mouth were covered too, Soonyoung suddenly running out of things to say.

And then Jihoon realised that covering someone’s eyes also meant they would not be able to see. The thought bent him forward, pressed his lips onto the back of his own hand, his eyes fluttering shut naturally.

* * *

 

It was still winter, the year still new, Jihoon still on Soonyoung’s bed. That morning Soonyoung got up earlier than his new friend due to the incessant pinging of his phone.

The messages were Seungkwan. Only the first one had any words in it.

_SOS what 2 wear on a date?_

Soonyoung groaned, running a hand through his hair. The guy attached six different outfits and, judging by the ‘typing’ bubble, more were on their way. Beside him, Jihoon stirred.

“Is everything okay?” He croaked.

“Which one of these would you wear on a date?” Soonyoung responded, putting the phone screen in front of the other.

Jihoon looked for a very long time, in part because his eyes were still having trouble focusing. “This shirt but the pants,” he swiped a few pictures down. “These ones.”

Soonyoung hummed, flipping the phone back around to type the reply.

_< 3 (blowing kiss emoji) Tq lifesaver!!! :):)_

Soonyoung was probably still a little drunk off sleep. He gestured a heart with his fingers, the kind made with the thumb and index. Then he blew a kiss. “Thank you lifesaver.” Capped it all off with a smile.

Jihoon smothered him with a pillow. Then he crawled up into a sitting position.

“By the way, there’s no more food in the fridge.”

Soonyoung picked off the pillow to hug. “Shit. I forgot to go to the mart.” He wriggled his toes. “Do you want to come with? We could get breakfast on the way.”

Jihoon looked out the window first, then up at the ceiling, and finally at Soonyoung. “I guess.” He had on a tiny frown though.

It didn’t bother Soonyoung, who rolled out of bed with a cheerful fist pump, made his way to the bathroom, presumably to clean up. Afterwards, he let the other guy use the space, while he scoured the house for extra winter clothes. He’d never really seen Woozi dressed for the weather.

When the guy did come out of the bathroom, Soonyoung sheepishly held up only three gloves in his hand. Which was a problem because there were four hands combined. But Soonyoung was an improviser. He insisted on being the one to use the one glove, as he was the idiot who misplaced his belongings. And then when the other objected, he slipped their hands together.

“There, solved.”

Jihoon’s cheeks flushed. At least he was already half hidden by the scarf coiled around his neck, trying to hunch into it more. Soonyoung took him back to that street again, it felt a lot less festive for sure, but something about it felt the same.

They had toast and coffee from a coffee shop somewhere. And then Soonyoung was swinging their arms on the way to the supermarket.

Inside the heated establishment, there was no reason for them to hold hands. They’d need them to grab items anyway. But Jihoon thought he might have scowled when Soonyoung let go of his hand.

They made a languid round, going between every aisle. Jihoon pointed out the things lacking from Soonyoung’s fridge, while Soonyoung occasionally put in an item that he saw on his way and fancied.

Sometimes Jihoon would shake his head. “Really? Strawberry filled marshmallows?”

Soonyoung put up his thumb at him.

“Buy some actual strawberries.”

“Don’t like them.” Soonyoung whined.

“Fruits are good for you.” Jihoon deadpanned.

“Hey I eat other types of fruits, I just don’t like berries.”

It was so childish, Jihoon snickered.

“Ya ya ya, I bet you have a least favourite fruit too.”

Jihoon thought on that for a bit. “I don’t like strawberries either.”

Soonyoung clapped his hands in triumph. It made Jihoon roll his eyes, scoff so hard he turned away.

That’s when it happened. He turned and ended up locking eyes with a stranger. By itself, it wasn’t really that big a deal. It happened to people all the time. But Jihoon was trying to avoid catching anyone’s attention at all if possible. Because he had technically ran from his house. Yet that was a familiar face, a set of familiar eyes that he hadn’t seen in years.

He saw the guy squint, trying to piece something in his head. Jihoon couldn’t meet his gaze anymore, glancing away at anything else. As a result he more was vaguely aware of the guy walking over than actually seeing him do so, but he retracted behind the shelf of snacks anyway.

Soonyoung was looking at him funny, his features morphed into puzzlement, he took a breath to say something but Jihoon heard something else first.

“Cheol? What are you doing?”

The voice was very close by. Jihoon would recognise it anywhere.

He took off, left the filled cart to sit suspiciously in the middle of the aisle, a hand grabbing Soonyoung’s wrist. They’d just squeezed through the automatic door at the earliest opportunity they could.

And then Soonyoung called his name. Not his real name, he didn’t tell him that, but the old nickname Jihoon gave him. Soonyoung’s never called him by it before. It must have been too awkward to say. This was the first time and the worst timing.

“Woozi?!” He said.

Jihoon could feel the voice drift downwards, towards the guy, kick starting his legs like a switch because then the guy was in front of him. Strong posture and hard eyes cut him off from an exit. Seungcheol.

Behind there was someone else who just jogged up to them. He had long hair and a gentler demeanour, and the expression on his face killed Jihoon’s escape just the same. Jeonghan.

“It’s really you.” Jeonghan said first.

Jihoon bit his lip.

Seungcheol swung a fist at the wall. “You son of a bitch.”

Now, Jeonghan tapped Soonyoung by the shoulders to steer them to leave. Soonyoung looked back, he gripped tighter around Jihoon’s hand until Jihoon squeezed hard back once, twice, and let go.

Soonyoung let himself be led by the other until they rounded the corner, where it was a substantial distance from their companions but close enough to sprint over to. Jeonghan passed him a heat pack.

“What do you know about his situation?” Jeonghan asked, blunter than Soonyoung expected.

“Nothing.”

Jeonghan levelled his stare. “Nothing?”

“Well I’m not dumb, I know he’s hiding something from me but he hasn’t even given me his name.” Soonyoung threw his head back.

“And you’re okay with that?”

Soonyoung shrugged. “Sorry if this sounds rude but, what are you to him?”

“Us? We were child-“ Jeonghan caught himself. “We _are_ childhood friends. What about you?

Soonyoung shrugged again. He blew a puff of white air into the sky.

“I wonder…”

* * *

 

Soonyoung really couldn’t help but notice that Seungkwan’s pastry of the day was of Japanese origin. He waltzed around happily, steps light, and handed them out to everybody. It was just as well, Soonyoung supposed, since Woozi had an unforeseen appreciation for chocolate and finished up half the box already.

“How was your date?” He asked, taking two packets from the tin.

Seungkwan tried to bite back the smile on his lips. “Well… It was great. Seokmin took me to the museum and I had so much fun. We had dessert too.”

Soonyoung smiled at that. “But did he compliment your clothes?”

“Oh yeah, you know I never pegged you for the fashionista type but that was a good choice.”

By virtue that he didn’t actually pick the outfit, he probably didn’t qualify to get offended yet there he was, getting offended.

“How come you doubt me all the time? I should have left you to die.”

“No offence, hyung,” and he made a big show of scanning Soonyoung up and down. “But yeah.”

Soonyoung harrumphed. “Honestly where is the karma?” And he tore into the packet in his hand with more force than necessary, sending the sweet brown piece flying through the air in a graceful arch to land on its side on the tabletop.

Seungkwan cackled, tears forming. He was about the slam the table but remembered to hold back at the last second. Instead, he was quick to get out his phone and laughed harder when Soonyoung groaned in the background.

The first few attempts were blurry from his shaky hands but Seungkwan did manage to get a clear shot of the miracle. Somehow, Soonyoung already knew the younger male was sending the photo to half the world, so he picked the piece of chocolate off the table, three second rule be damned, and popped the thing into his mouth anyway.

Seungkwan was still staring at his phone, but then he seemed to notice something and looked back up. “Hey whatever happened to your mystery guy?”

“Hmm? Ah, well things are kind of complicated now but we got closer I think?” Soonyoung pondered.

“Still no name?”

Soonyoung shook his head.

“At least describe him to me.”

“He’s small.”

Seungkwan looked thoroughly unimpressed.

Soonyoung thought of the other’s eyes.

“He’s kind of bright?”

“What the heck?”

And at that moment, Soonyoung felt a strange sense of déjà vu. _If it stays with you, you can get magic powers._

“He’s like a magical existence.”

“Okay, friendship officially cancelled.” Seungkwan waved a hand and shook his head but Soonyoung laughed at his own idea.

And that night, Soonyoung got back, toed off his shoes at the entrance. He had takeaway milk tea in his hand, and there was food on the table. Then Woozi’s head came poking out of the kitchen.

“I’m back, fairy-nim~” He cheered all singsong.

Woozi had come to take the bag from him but he froze. “Wh-what?”

Soonyoung giggled. “You’re like a fairy.” He repeated.

Jihoon turned beet red. “You and your nonsense again.” And they both went inside, sat down and ate their dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- thank you for reading the second chapter! o ^^ o
> 
> \- yooo so yeah that's what i meant by this shitshow being inspired by the 'fairy woozi' comment.  
> \--- it's kind of like a zashiki-warashi (with creative liberties) living in hoshi's place concept, cooking and cleaning and staying out of sight
> 
> \- honestly, i respect people who do chaptered fics because i got so insecure about this chapter, i made myself sick-er  
> \- and also, i had all the beats down but something shifted along the way and now there are characters and ships i never intended. whatta plan, whatta plan, whatta plan, what a very good plan \\\  
> \- me, unsure about writing booseok: make it open to interpretation; also me: they went on a date. meanwhile wonhui still missing in action, i weep
> 
> \- btw, it's park jimin as in that kid on sbs elementary school teacher, the one who taught momo, because he's cute and was what i pictured in my head as i wrote
> 
> \- much thanks to bap's rain sound for getting me through. and to all the everybody who read/ left comments/ kudos/ tweeted at me (@soon_uwu_hoon). i love you all! <3<3
> 
> \- til next time~


	3. february

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- light mentions of dv (even lighter this chapter)  
> \- light cussing  
> \- line breaks are different days while ** indicates a small jump in the same day  
> \- notes at the end
> 
> \- hamtaro // ding dong song

Tuesdays were Soonyoung's days off. It was meant to be a time of complete rest and relaxation. No scampering about the apartment hunting for his things, no enduring jabs from the elbows of strangers to board the train. But though he would sleep till late morning, he'd go down the stops anyway, to use the dance studio himself (an employee privilege) or visit some of the folks in the area whom he'd gotten close to. It was a new Tuesday.

The space beside him dipped, sheets crumpling under the action. Soonyoung turned away from it, laid on his side, trying to become one with the mattress.  


"It's morning."  


He was told.  


"Barely morning."  


He retorted, voice getting muffled by the blanket. In actuality, he didn't know what time it was but it was pretty dark out.  


"You said you wanted to wake up early today."  


"Why would I say that?" Soonyoung grumbled. Somewhere in the back of head, he realised he did say that, standing next to Woozi by the kitchen cabinets, talking about this one noodle shop down the street that served really divine ramyeon, a claim substantiated by the queue that could go for miles and miles with the only way to really get to savour it being to be present when the shutter opened. And Woozi had to stretch a little, shirt riding up, but he managed to get the bag of instant hot cocoa onto the shelf and he nodded afterwards.  


So Soonyoung rolled back on his back, "what time is it?"  


Jihoon said, "5:23," as he extended a hand.  


Soonyoung took it, allowed himself to pull upwards, a figurative scale in his head measuring the worth of getting out of the very comfortable covers against the taste of delicious noodles he hadn't had in awhile. One side tilted down with overwhelming force. And in kind, Soonyoung threw himself heavily back on the bed, their hands still interlocked, so Jihoon tumbled over with a squeak.  


"What do you think you're doing?" Jihoon hissed.  


When Soonyoung laughed, the sound echoed in his chest, and Jihoon could feel it somewhat ticklishly against his ear.  


"The feng shui is not good for eating noodles today."  


When Jihoon laughed, it was like little tremors dancing on Soonyoung's ribs, the sensation of a weight not heavy.  


"Since when were you into feng shui?" Jihoon asked disbelieving.  


"Since 5:23."  


His face was pulled into seriousness. Jihoon erupted into laughter once more.  


And sometime later when he opened his eyes again, the colour of the sky had changed, there were arms holding onto his waist, Soonyoung snoring slightly under him.  


Jihoon gulped. Then, he squirmed out of the grip, shaking Soonyoung awake as he did so. This time Soonyoung seemed to be appeased with the natural light coming from the windows so he got up without protest.  


It's nine now. Jihoon cut through the bathroom, coming out on the other side in the threshold of the kitchen. Soonyoung followed, except he closed the door when he got to it. Jihoon was unfazed as he heard the click just behind him, followed by the gush of running water from the tap.  


Instead, he looked around in the fridge and dug through the cabinets. "Are you okay with cereal and milk." He shouted.  


"O-ey." Soonyoung's answer was distorted by something in his mouth.  


But Jihoon understood. So he worked on getting the bowls for them, first pouring out the dry flakes, then the cold milk from the carton in the fridge, before picking them both off the counter.  


After a particularly loud spit, Soonyoung came shuffling out, an arm wiping his mouth. He took one of the bowls from Jihoon. "Mmmm thanks, Chef."  


Jihoon grew a little concerned for the contents of the bowl as his arm shook ever so slightly. He ducked his head. "It's just cereal you numbskull."  


But he was just a step behind Soonyoung who made his way to the sofa. Soonyoung's sofa was red and, technically, designed for two. Whatever standard the company used for butt sizes must have a little inaccurate though, and it was more like a one and a half. So the both of them sat side by side on plush space barely enough, arms forced to touch, bowls balanced on their knees.  


Soonyoung had the foresight to snag the TV remote before plopping down, and the screen flickered to life with the press of a button. It was a talk show with a guest paediatrician speaking about common misconceptions regarding kids and food. The celebrity guests ooh and aah, screaming out their bewilderment at everything. Jihoon scrunched up his nose.  


From the corner of his eye, he saw Soonyoung look at him with an eyebrow raised, the remote held in his palm. Jihoon had learnt that that was Soonyoung asking if he could change the channel, so he nodded.  


The image changed, people giving way to vivid lines and animated effects, a children's cartoon. It was a fairly older show, that was made obvious from the art style and lower definition, a rerun, and Soonyoung lit up in recognition.  


"Woah it's been so long since I saw this show!" He exclaimed.  


Jihoon did recognise it too, somewhat. He'd seen some of it when he was much smaller. If he recalled right, it was about a secret society of domesticated hamster pals who gathered when their owners left the house. It instilled into Seungcheol a resolution to never keep a hamster. Personally, Jihoon's favourite was the one wearing the apron.  


But Soonyoung’s excitement was much more, singing along to the words of the theme song as if he only last watched it yesterday. And when he stopped mid-line to point his spoon expectantly at Jihoon, Jihoon thought he must have been possessed as he heard the tune slip from his throat.  


It made Soonyoung smile, eyes crinkling.  


"Woah, you have a nice voice."  


_ Jihoon's calves clenched. He held onto the whiteboard duster a little tighter. There hadn't supposed to be anyone else in the classroom at this hour. He knew who the person was though, a classmate that he'd only spoken to once because he had picked up the other's misplaced textbook by chance. Jihoon could feel his heart speeding up. _   


"Thank you?"  


_ The guy shrugged his shoulders. "Min Jingi," he introduced, "hey, let's talk for a bit." _   


"No really!" Soonyoung insisted, then, "wait which one was your favourite? I liked Jingle."  


Whatever demon residing in him had better leave soon, Jihoon thought as his mouth fell open. "Howdy."  


* * *

  


The thing is, when Seokmin said ‘we’ll get coffee’, he really meant buying coffee for two and showing up at Soonyoung's.  


At least this time, it was not unannounced, so Jihoon's sitting snug in the bedroom with the doors shut.  


But it's been a little bit since he came back from Japan all the same, Soonyoung greeted by a very shagged and wrung out version of his best friend.  


"Damn, that hectic?"  


Seokmin shimmied off his shoes, shuffling past Soonyoung to monopolise the sofa with a plop. The frown he sported was enough to silence any objection, as Soonyoung found himself a stool to set beside the man.  


"It's been hell." Seokmin sighed. "Right after I returned, I find out one of our producers went on a strike. He's refusing to work on anything and he's rejecting all our efforts to talk it out."  


Here he pinched the bridge of his nose and remembered he was holding onto two cups of coffee, passing one to Soonyoung.  


"Seriously, Jingi that bastard." He hissed. The next moment his eyes widened. "Wait, confidentiality, shit."  


Soonyoung had the gale to laugh, shaking his head til his hair tumbled. "You've never been good with that though."  


In retaliation, Seokmin pushed his friend's elbow when he took a sip.  


Soonyoung sputtered, gave him an affronted look but he pursed his lips. "I feel like I’ve heard that name before somewhere..."  


"Yeah you really like his songs." He sang a bit to demonstrate.  


"Oh! That song?" He particularly recalled hearing it one time in Aunty's restaurant, Woozi illuminated by the orange from above like a halo. "Damn, I hope he’s okay."  


"Well I would hope so too. It's presenting a lot of problems." Seokmin threw out his hand in frustration.  


He hadn't much helpful advice to give so he rubbed Seokmin's arm. "Yeah I hope things works out. There's probably not much I can do but I could listen if you need."  


Seokmin looked at him, made a show of mock sniffling from feeling touched.  


“Or, you know, divert it to Seungkwannie.”  


The glimmer fell, replaced by unimpressed. “I’m going to find one of those design your own mug shops, and I’m going to get ‘World’s Worst Friend’ printed on one, black like your soul, and give it to you for your birthday.”  


Soonyoung grinned, toothy. “You forget that your birthday’s just round the corner and you should watch what you say to people buying you presents, hmmm.”  


At that Seokmin started laughing, the kind that was overly sarcastic, as he threw an arm over Soonyoung’s neck. Soonyoung didn’t resist, letting it happen as he gripped the edge of the stool for balance and laughed along. From there the conversation shifted and warped, switching every few minutes because the both of them tended to sidetrack. Until Seokmin was suddenly aware of the time and he got up to leave.  


Soonyoung, like a good host, moved with his guest, said his goodbyes at the door. It was all nice and gay, lightness to his steps. And he’d gone to the door of the bedroom to tell Woozi that it was okay to come out now, but there is the sound of sobbing that seemed to grip his wrist, curled tightly, and he was too entranced to move.  


Simply stared at the handle, arm raised, heart breaking.

* * *

  


“Are you going to go?”  


From the darkness of the apartment unlit in the night, there was a reply for the first time. Soonyoung felt like he’d never heard this voice before.  


“I wish I knew.”  


Soonyoung was uncomfortable about the distance between them that suddenly seemed to stretch beyond room to door.  


“How will you know?”  


Jihoon was silent for a very long time. But he padded over, just as he always did. This time he grabbed Soonyoung’s hand before his could be grabbed.  


“If I was told, I suppose.”  


Soonyoung couldn’t see the other’s eyes when he lowered his head like that.  


“In that case,” the air grew unbearably still, “will you stay?”  


Jihoon looked up slowly, first his head, then his eyes, then his neck. He was biting the inside of his cheek, the moonlight put a funny glint in his pupils.  


“Are you telling me to?”  


“No.”  


“Do you want me to?”  


“I want you to want to.”  


The moon was so clear in the sky, not a single cloud to shield it from sight, and Jihoon cursed it as he tiptoed, leaned up to kiss Soonyoung.  


* * *

_   
_

_ “I wonder…” he said, a nasty feeling of cold blooming in his chest, chillier than all the snow about. _   


_ The man with long hair hummed, perked up with a snap. _   


_ “Then, what is he to you?” _   


_ Soonyoung blinked, suddenly getting a good look at the man before him. He was more of the slender sort, thin and long-limbed without being overly tall. Hair dyed silver, features pretty, something gleaming in his clear eyes. It messed with Soonyoung’s ability to think so he threw out words not fully processed. _   


_ “Precious? Important? Special? I, you know it’s like just-” _   


_ The snort indicated it was time to stop talking. _   


_ And when he was done with his amusement, he lifted a hand. “Yoon Jeonghan. Nice to meet you.” _   


_ “Kwon Soonyoung.” He returned. _   


_ Jeonghan stuck out his phone to ask for his number. The simple routine of keying and saving. _   


_ “Guess I’ll see you around.” He commented, slipping his phone back into his pocket. _   


_ At this moment, the other new person came round the corner, he gave Soonyoung a glare that was livid enough to burn away all the latter’s thoughts. _   


_ Conversely, Jeonghan had relaxed considerably since the start of the encounter. “And this is Choi Seungcheol. Cheollie, Kwon Soonyoung. Now, if I recall, a certain  _ _ someone _ _ is still standing alone on the road.” _   


_ Soonyoung took that as his cue to scamper away, tentatively glancing back but changed his mind instantly when he met with the wrath still there. _   


_ Seungcheol redirected his anger at his friend. “The fuck?” _   


_ Jeonghan grabbed him by the jacket. “I remembered something. We are Jihoon’s childhood friends, aren’t we?” _   


_ There was no answer. _   


_ “Even if we haven’t spoken for years, isn’t it enough for now that we’ve found him again? He watched Seungcheol draw his lips thin. “Plus, I think he’s in a better place now.” _   


_ Seungcheol scoffed. _   


_ “How can you be sure about that?” _   


_ “I’ve always had good intuition, remember? I said Jingi was a terrible idea right after I was introduced to him.” _   


_ “But Jihoon said he loved him.” Seungcheol stated and Jeonghan looked away. Seungcheol cupped his face. “You know what he said about that Soonyoung though?” _   


* * *

  


Jihoon was painfully aware that something between him and Soonyoung had shifted again. It was hard enough to make sense of them before as neither of them would address anything. Whatever it was, it stewed and rippled in his heart. Jihoon thought he’d be able to give it a name if he really tried but he didn’t want to do that either, not sure which option would be more difficult to deal with.  


Instead he looked at Soonyoung, the idiot falling asleep on his feet on the train. Although it was quite a feat so Jihoon’s not saying anything about it, merely watched as his head bounced occasionally. Until one time his knees buckled, Soonyoung jolting awake with a yelp. Jihoon had a fond smile.  


Some businessman got off at the next stop, Jihoon quickly pushed Soonyoung to the vacant seat. And when the seat next to that freed up too, Jihoon took it. Soonyoung was still drowsy, he swayed a little, eventually coming to rest on Jihoon’s shoulder.  


It must have made for a strange sight, because Jihoon was much smaller in size in comparison so something surely looked off, but the general public was always too busy, busy, busy with something else, a phone, a newspaper, to pay them any mind. So Jihoon repositioned a little, made it more comfortable, and suddenly sixteen stops seemed so incredibly close.  


As the train was about to reach their stop, Soonyoung woke up before Jihoon had the chance to wake him, something in him just knowing out of habit. His eyes were kind of puffy, face a little swollen.  


“Rise and shine Sleeping Beauty.” He teased.  


“No, Sleeping Beauty has to be awoken with a kiss.” Soonyoung slurred, putting his head back on the shoulder to prove a point.  


“Get up, we’ll miss the stop.”  


“Bleh.” Soonyoung said. But it was true and they had to get off, so Soonyoung’s reluctantly standing, moving with the whole flux of passengers alighting at the same place. It had all been pretty chaotic, people on all sides of more people, pushing and shoving. Somewhere, Jihoon grabbed onto Soonyoung’s hand, the one still ungloved because they never went to buy another pair, keeping it warm in his grip. The lacing of their fingers was optional. There was a particularly rough shove from the back that ejected them onto the platform, swept them up in the rush of the crowd to the escalators, tapped out at the gantry.  


Then there was sudden peace when they spilled onto the roadside, as people continued to rush around them, dispersing everywhere. Jihoon tugged at their hands until he was looked at, he gestured with his free hand, a universal sign for indicating something was going to be whispered. Soonyoung bent over, exposed his ear.  


And Jihoon with his hand still half blocking his face, missed the ear by just a bit to peck Soonyoung on the cheek.  


Soonyoung’s mouth fell open but he recovered quickly.  


“You rascal.” He jested.  


_   
_

_ “You rascal!” _

  


Then a spark of something flashed in his eyes, impish and bright.  


  


_ A shadow of something passed over his face, devilish and dark. _

  


He stuck his ungloved hand along Jihoon’s nape where he knew the smaller man was very ticklish.

  


_ He wrapped his hands around Jihoon’s neck. And he’s got this clever trick of only exerting pressure from the thumbs, pushing into the space between the collarbones. It wasn’t suffocating, not really, but it did make it very uncomfortable to breathe, almost as if Jihoon’d rather stop doing it himself because it felt so unnatural. _

  


Jihoon held in his squeal.

  


_ Jihoon felt his voice being pressed down. _

  


And as he squirmed this way and that away from Soonyoung’s wriggling fingers, he had never been more thankful for his ticklish nature as it made a convincing alternative explanation for the tears that welled.

**

They get to the dance school, the chime jingled a merry sound, Soonyoung called out greetings to all the people he knew. There was a girl at reception, a fairly quiet college student who picked up the job for some extra change. Soonyoung was a bit puzzled.  


“Hey, I thought it was Seungkwan today?”  


The girl puffed her cheeks, a slight frown to her brows. “Called in sick this morning.”  


“That sucks.”  


“Yeah looks like a flu bug’s been going around…” The girl contemplated. “Well, take care I guess. Your first class is in half an hour.”  


And she went back to her papers. Soonyoung straightened as he headed for the lockers. Jihoon said he’d wait outside because it probably wasn’t proper. Of course, Soonyoung popped in super quick to set down his bag, and remove the layers of his clothes until he was in a T-shirt and baggy pants, dance attire. Then he pulled out his phone.  


He had some notifications. One was from Seungkwan who texted to say he was down with the cold,  ㅠㅠ . Soonyoung hoped whatever he caught wasn’t too serious, a sentiment reflected as a get well soon message filled with plenty of emojis for good measure. Then he popped back out to the lobby area to find Jihoon looking about.   


“Well welcome to my work place!” He slung an arm around the other’s neck. “It’s nothing fancy but we teach kids to dance. We got guys who do ballet, modern dance, contemporary, and jazz. Not as cool as you thought, huh?” Soonyoung chuckled, shyly scratched at his cheek.  


Jihoon shook his head. “No it’s nice, and besides I was the one who wanted to see it.”  


“You’re gonna sit in for a lesson, right?”  


“Are you sure it’s okay?” It really wasn’t his position to sit around in the back of a class when he had no actual business there.  


“Sure, the other guys bring their lovers all the time.” Soonyoung dismissed, then he backtracked. “Ah, you know, and it’s not like you would want to sit in the lobby for all the rest of the time. I mean, that’s not great.”  


“Yeah,” Jihoon raised a hand, voice soft, “I get it.”  


“Yeah.” Soonyoung parroted, cringing at the sudden palpable tension as he led Woozi into one of the studios. There wasn’t  _ that _ much setup to do but if he stopped looking busy, he’d have to make conversation to diffuse the atmosphere and he really didn’t know what to say then. So he checked the phone to speaker adapter seven times more than necessary, busy with making sure the playlist was absolutely, positively, correct. And then he checked again.   


He nearly cried in relief when the first kid came in, bubbly and uncaring about the one extra person sitting in the corner.  


“Teacher Kwon!”  


“Woohee-ya!”  


She stopped just in front of him. “Teacher Kwon, today at school, the teachers asked us to talk about what we want to be when we grow up.”  


“Oh?” Soonyoung beamed, crouched down. “And how did that go?”  


“I told her I wanted to be a dancer!” She giggled into her hand. “Then the teacher gave me two sweets for being brave but I think you should have one because you are my dance teacher.”  


After she said it, she presented a small piece of candy, wrapped with foil that was twisted at the ends.  


Soonyoung patted her head. “You’re a good kid, Woohee-ya,” he took the candy from her. “And don’t you think good kids deserve sweets too, so,” he put it back on her palm. “For you.”  


Woohee whined because she gave it to him first but Soonyoung deflected it all with whining of his own. More kids came in then, they scrambled towards the slowly growing group at the front, mouths moving animatedly, all peals of laughter and melodious cheer.  


And when the clock struck the hour, Soonyoung went to pick up his clipboard, calling out the names one by one. Jihoon nearly laughed out loud because count on Soonyoung to use nicknames for everyone of them. Instead he tried to shrink into himself.  


Soonyoung as an instructor was a Soonyoung he’d never seen before, but something within the realms of imagination, he supposed. There was still a gentleness to him, the spark of energy that was hard not to notice. At the same time, he became much harder somehow, firmer, fiercer, focused. Jihoon found himself comparing it to having a toned body yet wearing baggy clothes all the time, only to reveal and stun. He was going to pretend he never had that thought though, already feeling blood in his cheeks, when all of a sudden he heard a young voice piping up, “teacher… who is he?”  


All eyes in the room suddenly fell upon him, it wasn’t nice. It also wasn’t nice when he shot a look at Soonyoung, and could see that look the man tended to have when he thought of a particularly terrible idea.  


“You see guys, Woozi here is a fairy.”  


Yup, his worst idea yet.  


The children’s responses were split into two, some who gape, and some who click their tongues. “There’s no such thing as fairies.”  


“But have you ever seen one?” Soonyoung asked, waving a finger.  


“No.”  


“Then how can you know for sure?” He said that with a smile, full of joy.  


The children thought there was a lot of sense in that. They turn their attention to ‘the fairy’ again.  


\--- Can you fly? Why are you so big? What kind of magic do you have? Can you show us, please, please, please? ---  


Jihoon was completely flustered. Thankfully, Soonyoung stepped in. “Come on guys, you know that all the fairies have to keep their secrets.”  


He was stealing that straight out of the show, the children’s cartoon he saw episodes of after seeing the girl’s backpack, after smiling at Park Jimin’s actions.  


One of the girls gasped loudly. “Then doesn’t this mean Teacher Kwon’s heart is taken?” Another reference. The information sunk in. “Not fair!”  


Soonyoung beamed at her. “Yeah my heart is his, but my eyes are on you right now. Come on, break’s over,  back to class, back to class.”  


It took awhile, because kids were easily distracted, but they do manage to get back on track with only a few quick, curious glances here and there. Jihoon felt shy each time, and maybe that was the reason he spent all the rest of the lesson watching just Soonyoung.  


“Good job everyone, see you guys next week!” Soonyoung called. The children clearly wanted to stay, to talk to ‘the fairy’, but they were whisked away by their placating parents.  


Jihoon could tell feel the pins and needles in his leg from the prolonged sitting so he chose to stretch his legs out in front of him.  


“How was it?” Soonyoung plopped down next to him, water bottle in hand. Jihoon noticed that Soonyoung sweated a fair bit, the shirt a shade darker and clinging to his skin.  


“It was interesting.”  


“That’s all?” Soonyoung pouted. “How was I?”  


Jihoon pushed his face away because it had gotten too close. “I’m withholding comment on that until I see more.”  


“Is that a date?”  


Jihoon held up his pinky. Soonyoung had another idea though.  


Sealed it with a kiss.  


  


(( Later, Jihoon said he wanted to see Soonyoung dance, just him alone, a solo. Soonyoung said there was this one piece he just choreographed, and seeing as they had some time before they needed to clear the room, it was a perfect opportunity.  


Then the first beats of the song came on and Jihoon swore he recognised that melody.  


_ Oh you touch my tralala _   


Jihoon blinked twice.  


_ Mmmm my ding ding dong _   


The music picked up, getting stronger. Then he laughed, hearty and light. “Why this song?” Soonyoung tried to say something about the rhythm being fun to dance to, but whenever the strangely sensual voice came on, Jihoon couldn’t help his chuckle and Soonyoung’s expression would falter from sexy to giggly.  


Although his body continued to move with precision, beauty and grace and evidently well-practiced. He waved, and popped, and grinded, did all of that with ease. Even firmer, even fiercer, Jihoon stopped laughing, he was captivated. And when it ended he asked for Jihoon’s opinion. Jihoon stared straight into his eyes, “that was amazing.” ))

**

At lunch, Soonyoung grabbed Jihoon by the hand to take him out of the school. On their way, they passed the whoopings of some of the other teachers, the noisy typing of the receptionist girl, the hushed whispers of mothers gossiping. Have you tried the new bakery down the street? Did you see the fishmonger’s daughter walking around with a child recently, you don’t think? I heard that Mrs Kim’s kid tried to run away from home last week.

Jihoon shook all that away, sped up to match Soonyoung as they strolled. The street was new to Jihoon, who had never come to this part of town before.  


Long, wide stretches down the left and right which, he was told, would eventually connect in a loop. It was a bit of a hipster hub, the place littered with cafes and trinket shops, a general rustic feel wafting dully in the air, veiling the area with this sepia hue. Here, it felt a bit more peaceful, a different smell in the air, and Jihoon realised he could see a wider expanse of the sky when he looked upwards.  


Soonyoung brought him to one of the cafes for lunch.  


The waitress had recognised him instantly, and she had been happy to see him. She brought them their sandwiches and bowls of cream of mushroom. And she did this finger bang of understanding when Soonyoung asked for the ‘special’ after the meal.  


As it turned out the ‘special’ was parfait; ice cream alternated between chocolate and vanilla, topped off with whipped cream, wafer sticks, and a sprinkling of peanuts. The serving was generous, enough for two, and fittingly so since it was made for couples.  


“Isn’t this too sweet?” Jihoon raised a brow, when the cup was settled between them.  


“That’s the point!” She exclaimed, “may your relationship be as sweet as the ice cream, may you always be nuts for each other, and as whipped as the cream.”

“What about the wafer?” Soonyoung pointed at the neglected ingredient.

“Ahhh, well... to keeps things crisp and fresh?”

“Geez, don’t tell such lies.”

But there was laughter around their table as she pretended to be shocked, “oh you caught me,” and then left them to their own devices, going to serve another table.  


Jihoon took a tentative bite of the dessert, it truly was a bit sweet for his palate, although Soonyoung didn’t seem to be bothered by the sugar at all, practically inhaling it.  


And it was really the most stupid, most childish thing, Jihoon berated himself, but if the dumb too sweet dessert was meant to symbolise their relationship then he was a little glad that they couldn’t finish it because it was as if it kind of meant they weren’t finished yet. Oh God he wanted to dig a hole and hide.  


There was still some time before Soonyoung had to be back so he said, “hey, you wanna meet this friend of mine? He works around the area too.”  


Jihoon figured he might as well.  


Soonyoung took him to a bookshop. On the outside there was a blackboard with messages written on it with chalk. “You can already tell he’s going to be a nerd.”  


The place was homey, books of all thickness and covers lined about from carpet to ceiling, until there was barely any wall left except in the cashier area where there was also a row of potted cacti. And shelves and shelves and shelves.  


The cashier looked up at the entering duo, his initial welcoming smile disappeared in a millisecond.  


“Jeon Wonuwonuwonu.”  


“Please stop.”  


Soonyoung laughed, back bending. “Let me introduce, this is the shop owner and a close friend, Jeon Wonwoo. Wonwoo, meet Woozi, he’s my fairy.”  


Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “Sure… Nice to meet you,” he faced Jihoon, offered a hand. “Look, I don’t know where you met this idiot, but I must warn you that his stupidity could be contagious so you better watch out.”  


“Wow, do you always pimp me out like that?”  


Jihoon sighed, long suffering. “I do what I can.”  


Soonyoung took a deep inhale, scandalised and deeply hurt. “Oh woe is me.”  


Then he glanced at the clock (it had no numbers on the face, by the way, because of Jeon Wonwoo’s goddamn ‘aesthetic’) and suddenly he sobered back up. “Ah, shit, I’ve got to head back now.”  


Jihoon surprised him by turning back to say, “mmm I think I’m going to stay here longer.”  


“Oh.” It came out a bit sad. “Will you come back to the school or should I come pick you up after?”  


“After, I guess.”  


“Right.” Soonyoung signed an ‘okay’ with his fingers, stepping through the door he pulled open.  


“Soonyoung, wait.” Jihoon dashed forward.  


Wonwoo looked on. The two were mostly hidden by the door now, all he could see were Woozi’s legs sticking out, heels not on the floor, the front of his body bent forward. From that he could probably tell what was going on and he smirked.  


Jihoon came back into the shop, cheeks tinged from sticking his face out in the cold.  


“So why did you want to stay?”  


The sudden seriousness in Woozi’s expression took him by surprise. “I saw the sign outside, it said you’re hiring.”  


Wonwoo whistled. “Okay, and tell me why I should hire you.”  


“I need a job.”  


“Did Soonyoung bring you here for this?”  


“It’s got nothing to do with him.”  


“So he’s not involved?”  


Jihoon let his gaze fall just slightly but renewed his confidence with a breath, going back to meet Wonwoo in the eye. It was an answer in its own right.  


“Then next question, do you know what you’ll be expected to do in this line? Have any experience?”  


Jihoon slowly turned from left to right. “No. But I can do it,” he emphasised with a strong nod, “I can start immediately.”  


There was something amused in Wonwoo’s smirk. “Okay, take one walk around the shop. Pick me the first book to catch your eye and I’ll decide if you’re hired or not.”  


It was kind of an eccentric request but Jihoon supposed he was trying to get hired. There were many, many books in the shop, even by bookshop standards, he thought he would drown in them. Somewhere, the spines began to blend into each other into a long stretch like a fashionable scarf. And now in a deeper part of the shop that was blocked from view when standing at the entrance, Jihoon noted there were framed photos of an athlete on display at the most random of places. Then he caught sight of a spine that was completely blank along it’s hardcover. He paused. Well, it caught his eye. Deftly he slid it out and brought it back.  


Wonwoo took the book he carried from him and smiled.  


“Why did you pick this one?”  


“It was blank at the side.”  


“You didn’t open it.”  


It wasn’t a question. Jihoon frowned.  


“You’re hired. Come on, I’ll show you how to work the cash register, and tomorrow, you better come in more appropriate attire.”  


So Jihoon went to stand beside Wonwoo behind the register.  


“By the way, did you notice the photos around the shop?”  


Jihoon tilted his head. “Yeah? Of Wen Junhui the martial artist?”  


“That’s my boyfriend.”  


It was what they called dropping a bomb. Jihoon snapped his neck so quickly at his new boss he might give himself whiplash. Yet there wasn’t a trace of quip. Jihoon narrowed his eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”  


“Trading secrets.” Wonwoo explained with a shrug, like it was most normal. “I don’t think you’re dangerous but it’s too strange that I don’t know anything at all, so tell me something, Woozi-ssi.”  


Jihoon both liked and disliked that tone. Wonwoo played his cards well, forced Jihoon’s hand.

So he took a moment, steeled himself, thought of what he could give away for the time being.

“Okay, remember when I said it had nothing to do with him? With Soonyoung?”  


Wonwoo nodded.  


“It’s only half true because it is for him.”  


That was weak, they both knew, but it was okay for the moment, because they had plenty of time.  


* * *

  


“Guys I’m heading out for a coffee run, anybody want anything?” Seungkwan called from the reception, loud enough for the whole school to hear.

Secretly everyone else heard, ‘I’m going to spend some time with my lover but I’m being discreet.’ Though they weren’t going to tell him anytime soon. Besides, who would pass on not having to walk for their coffee. They all recite their orders at once in a mess.

“Send them to the group chat for goodness sake!” Seungkwan overpowered them all when he shouted.

“Okay, but be sure to use protection,” one of the teachers snickered, “you know since you just recovered from your cold and all.”

Good job keeping it PG.

Seungkwan huffed, swung by Soonyoung in the pantry before he left. “Hey, I didn’t see your order, you don’t want anything?”

Soonyoung shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

If Seungkwan thought his hyung was being suspiciously chipper, he didn’t say anything about it, taking his phone out with him to the cafe. He held the door open for some short guy who was exiting as he entered, but it was all inconsequential, all in passing, as he all but skipped over to a waiting Seokmin. They talked for a bit, laughed, hands held tightly one in the other.

Then the break time was over, the magic finished, and Seungkwan had both hands full with the eleven cups of coffee, a contented sigh when he slipped into the school by pushing the door with his butt.

“Coffee’s here! Just collect yours from the pantry.”

There was a collective garble of thanks. Seungkwan made his way to put the coffees down, of course the first thing he noticed was Soonyoung already drinking a cup when he hadn’t been before.

“Where’d you get that?” He asked, suspicious.

Soonyoung released the straw from his mouth to beam. “I have my own delivery service.”

Somebody catcalled in the background.

Seungkwan gaped. “Your fairy?” 

Soonyoung went, “heh,” as he turned a little pink.

Honestly Seungkwan just couldn’t believe he missed the mystery dude for the second time.

* * *

  


“Woozi-ya, you can take your lunch now.” Wonwoo hollered, a palm by his mouth to amplify his voice.

That was actually code for, ‘Soonyoung’s here to take you out.’

However Jihoon bounced out from wherever he’d been without much reaction. He removed the apron, the only part of his uniform, and slipped comfortably onto Soonyoung’s arm.

“If you don’t come back in an hour I’m decking Soonyoung.”

“I think you you got something wrong there mate.” Soonyoung would argue, but he’d leave with Jihoon soon enough. 

Wonwoo would always look after them until the door closed. He felt happy for the couple, truly. Though there were things to be ironed out still. Their relationship still so new, there were still so many things they both were hiding from each other. But he saw the way Woozi smiled at Soonyoung, and the way Soonyoung smiled because of Woozi, and he couldn’t help but think things would work out somehow.

And really, he was in a sentimental enough mood already so when he received a selfie accompanied by the message,  _ ‘coming back soon <3<3’  _ from Jun, he smiled and unlike how he usually was like, turned on the front camera and took a picture of himself.

_ ‘Waiting for you, I miss you’ _

Interestingly, Woozi always came back alone, probably because they both wanted to walk each other back but that couldn’t work out very well. Today, he came back with three bouquets cradled in his arms.

Oh, so that’s why he asked for a small amount of advanced pay earlier.

Wonwoo received one from the shorter man. Hydrangeas - thank you for understanding. He never thought his short lived interest in flower language would come in handy at a moment like this. He glimpsed the remaining two. A mix of Tulips yellow - there is sunshine in your smile, and red - believe me, I love you. The last one, Hyacinths purple - I’m sorry.

Wonwoo only wondered who the Hyacinths were for.

**

It was becoming obvious that Seokmin barely met Soonyoung anywhere other than the latter’s apartment. Which was justified by how the younger had become accustomed to making the trip down. And at this point, Jihoon’s spent every instance of his arrival hiding, it just seemed like tradition now, almost like he should.

Which is why he did. And Seokmin was talking about everything under the sun with Soonyoung on the other side of the door. Jihoon mused that together, the duo would surely be able to power the entire city of Seoul with the sheer amount of what they said.

He started by complaining about the issue with Jingi again, Jihoon told himself to breathe, but then Soonyoung was trying to divert the topic away because, “it’s your birthday, man.” So instead Seokmin talked about spring that was said to come earlier this year, and about his dates with Seungkwan, and reminisced the high school days with Soonyoung. He declined a drink because he was going to let Seungkwan take him out later. Soonyoung swooned. 

At evening, he was ready to take his leave. Soonyoung signalled for him to stop, pulling out a bag from behind the table.

“Happy birthday, you little shit!”

“Gee thanks.” Seokmin said. There were some purple flowers sticking out and when he looked in, there was a massaging pillow. Thoughtful. “Flowers though?”

Soonyoung shrugged. “A little birdie told me to give them to you.”

“Riiiiight.” Seokmin heard about Mr Mystery from Seungkwan, who was quite positively burning with curiosity. And it was quite frankly piquing his interest too because in all their topics and sharings, Soonyoung never mentioned him, so he pretended he did not see the pair of shoes parked outside that were much too small for his friend. “Well pass on this message from me, say this exactly:  thanks for the flowers, but you better treat my friend well or else.”

“Oh my God, what are you saying?” Soonyoung pushed at him.

Seokmin laughed, a hint of knowing to his lips as he got into the corridor. “What? I’m just looking out for my bestest friend, mi mejor amigo.” Then he looked at Soonyoung’s blush and really guffawed as he walked away waving.

Soonyoung dragged his feet when he went back in, felt the click close against his heel as Jihoon emerged from the opened bedroom door, hands behind his back.

Smiles bloomed. And though there was so little space between them in Soonyoung’s tiny apartment as it were, they took slow steps forward anyway, like a prelude to a dance.

“Can’t believe you bought flowers without me knowing.” Soonyoung reached out.

“I got some for you too.” Red and yellow peeked out. Jihoon put it into Soonyoung’s open palm when they met halfway.

Soonyoung looped his arms around Jihoon, hands which were holding onto the bouquet coming to rest on the small of the other’s back, pressed their bodies together.

“What type are these?”

He had never been good with flowers.

“They’re tulips.” Jihoon replied, melting into the embrace.

Soonyoung had that bad idea face again. “Well if I own a garden, I’ll put our tulips together.”

“Why?” Jihoon groaned.

Then without a word, just a smile and a smile back, Soonyoung bent to plant a kiss on Jihoon’s lips.

* * *

  


Soonyoung learnt that Jihoon liked to stare out the window. He always wondered what the other saw in the scenery outside that had him so transfixed, sometimes he wondered if he would leave to chase that picture, as much as that idea was unappealing.

Yet every night, before falling asleep, Jihoon would look. And it’s become a part of them now, Jihoon gazing at the window, Soonyoung gazing at Jihoon.

There weren’t any stars in the sky that night.

“Do you know that legend about folding stars?”

Jihoon turned to look at him.

“They say if you make a wish and fold a star, then that star will bring your wish to the heavens.”

“Is that so?”

Soonyoung hummed but he was already falling asleep so Jihoon crawled closer to lean on his shoulder.

“There was a girl, a poor farmer’s daughter, and she had this idea that if people could only meet the Gods when they die, then that’s how she was going to plead for her father’s health. The Gods named the stars after her for her bravery. Kind of pretty, don’t you think?”

“It’s sad.”

“All pretty things are sad.”

It was quiet for a long time, Jihoon closed his eyes so it was all dark, and listened to the steady breathing that went inhale, exhale across the room. The cars went vroom outside, a constant buzz in the air.

Soonyoung shifted.

The next thing Jihoon felt were lips to his temple. “Goodnight, I love you” whispered into his ear.

Jihoon wondered if he had died.

* * *

  


_ “You know what he said about that Soonyoung though?” _

_ Jeonghan looked at him expectantly. _

_ “He said he would like it a lot if Soonyoung loved him.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- hey!! third times the charm, charm for what, i don't know but this is chapter three so thanks for reading and i hope you had a jolly fun time （＾コ＾）V  
> \--- i was going to put this up last night but my router was having problems lol
> 
> \- only the references to hamtaro and ding dong song are real. the fairy cartoon and the star legend were made up, although probably generic enough that there could actually be similar things
> 
> \- seokmin is a hr guy, huhu
> 
> \- man you know what i said about feeling insecure last chapter? because if that was putting my leg in the pool then with this chapter, i was cannonballing myself into the ocean
> 
> \- hello more name generator names (won woohee)
> 
> \- this was really supposed to be a 96 line fic but something happened...  
> \--- at least wonhui is finally introduced, or won at least, and pictures of hui  
> \--- if i don't manage to fully incorporate my plan for them, and at this point it's looking pretty bleak, i will probably do it as a one shot
> 
> \- i have a dream. to put up chapter:april in april. but really... we'll see
> 
> \- sorry the end notes are so messy this time though, i'm a little tired
> 
> \- well that's enough rambling.  
> \--- once again, a very sincere thanks for all the kudos/ comments/ nice things sent my way thus far. i know i don't reply often and when i do, it's like i forget how to use words and can never reciprocate well enough so i'm sorry for that but i really mean it when i say  
> \--- thank you
> 
> \- /// see you next time~


	4. march

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- the idea of dv,  
> \- homophobia  
> \- language (mild)
> 
> \- there is a theme in this chapter

Everything was dark, the uncomfortable kind, heavy with the notion that it was hiding something terrifying in itself. There was just enough light that he could barely see, that one line shining down from some window above, it illuminated the form of a man, standing silently with the darkest of expressions on his face. Jihoon feared seeing that more.

He didn’t dare make a sound, willed his erratic heartbeat to calm down, because he knew the man was looking for him. A predator, with senses so sharp and the ability to detect fear, as intangible as it may be.

Remain silent, and back away slowly. Like a mantra in his head. Silently, slowly. Silently, slowly.

But the man turned and looked straight at him. It should have been too dark to see, too dark to even hear, yet Jihoon knew the man could catch him no matter where he went.

It wasn’t working.

So run.

Jihoon took off, not sparing another glance behind because he could feel the burn upon his back as an indicator anyway. He ran and ran, trying to shake off the eyes, and his limbs barely felt like his.  

Down the corridor, out the door, another corridor, and another, and another, it didn’t matter as long as he kept moving. The eyes followed him through the walls unrelenting in their pursuit, mocking him at every turn, scornful laughter plastered as wallpaper.

Loud, it was all too loud. His foot falling heavily on the concrete, his **_badumpbadumpbadump_ ** , and the thoughts screaming over one another his mind. _Watch out! He’ll catch you! You deserve to be caught! Monster! I don’t want to go back! He doesn’t want you to stay!_

Run. Run. Run. It wasn’t working. Hide.

Then Jihoon figured, a blind spot, he just had to get to a place where he couldn’t be seen. Behind Jingi, directly behind him, where the eyes could not reach. As if sensing his thoughts, the way twisted and curved, bringing him back to the place he started but this time, as he wanted, Jingi was facing the other way. No eyes. No dark expression. Jihoon let out a sigh.

And that was his mistake, because then Jingi’s head whipped around a complete 180, his body still facing forward. A bolt seemed to shoot straight through Jihoon’s spine, holding him stiff and rooted to the ground, as his heart pounded like it was making up for all the motion that his legs were not able to do.

Jingi was complacent. Even though he took languid steps, the distance was small and he reached Jihoon’s space in mere seconds. He smiled, the sweet kind that exposed a good number of his upper teeth.

“You’ve been a very bad boy.”

But the smile doesn’t ever leave his face.

It was so cold, Jihoon shivered.

Jingi lifted his hands to place them upon Jihoon’s shoulder. His fingers were freezing. Jihoon jolted, the sensation sparking some action back into him.

“No!” He yelled, shoving the man away.

“Oof!”

Jihoon opened his eyes. He was trembling and all his senses came back at once. From the sounds of quiet night air resounding in his ears, to the spots of orange lights changing the colour of the melting traces of snow.

And Kwon Soonyoung dressed in his home clothes, on his butt, on the floor.

“Soonyoung!” He yelped, hurrying to inspect the other man. “I… I’m…” _the monster who did this to you._ He retracted just as quickly.

How he wanted to run again. His foot already half leaving the ground when suddenly he clenched the muscles in his calves. Not yet. Not until Soonyoung was back on his feet, not until he ensured Soonyoung was okay.

Soonyoung didn’t look okay. Although he didn’t seem physically injured, there was an ugly crease between his brows, his narrow eyes even narrower than usual. Jihoon gulped, the dryness of his throat hurt.

“Are you okay?” Soonyoung asked.

_I’m not the one who fell._

“I’m really sorry.”

“Hey.” Soonyoung reached out, putting his hands on Jihoon’s shoulders. They weren’t as cold as Jihoon remembered. “Is everything alright?”

_You will regret showering me with kindness. One day, I will take that kindness and run away, because that is what I do. I was already going to run. Then what will you do, huh, Soo-_

“-nyoung?” He choked out, the words that he could not say and the words he had difficulty saying mixed with each other, coiling and constricting in his chest.

Soonyoung startled closer, hands moving from their initial positions to wipe at Jihoon’s cheek. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Don’t cry. Hey.”

_Jihoon. My name is Jihoon._

But, now Jihoon was unable to speak for another reason, fighting the wrecking sobs that escaped, emptying his lungs as it went.

Soonyoung was silent too, suddenly forgetting all words of comfort. Instead he pulled in the unresisting Woozi closer, one hand around his back, one hand patting rhythmically on his head. It sure was a chilly night, he thought, reflecting on how alone they were in the middle of the street. Their only company were the insects, the elements, and the occasional car whizzing by. Not a soul to be found, but that was understandable, it was about 4 in the morning. Too late for late, and too early for early, Soonyoung’s shirt getting stained with tears and snot as he focused on holding tighter unto the shorter to stop the shaking.

It felt like both a long time and not, because he had no real way of knowing, but eventually Jihoon does stop crying. His entire face surely coloured over a splendid red as he swallowed down the last of his sniffles.

Soonyoung must have felt his shift, because then he was pulling away though he couldn’t go far with Jihoon tightly holding onto his shirt.

“Feel better?”

Yeah... yeah he felt better.

“Then let’s go home.”

Jihoon looked down, bit his bottom lip for a beat. “Okay.”

He followed as Soonyoung led him back, still standing close by and holding him by the hand.

“Geez, what if you catch a cold, huh?” Soonyoung chastised lightly. Jihoon looked down at the thin home clothes he was wearing, baggy because they weren’t exactly his size, and only seemed to notice now that his feet were bare along the gravel and last remains of snow.

So were Soonyoung’s.

His insides tumbled unpleasantly, something trying to claw its way out of him.

“It seemed like you had a bad dream.”

“Yeah.”

“What was it about?”

Soonyoung with his damned questions.

“It’s nothing.”

“That sure didn’t seem like nothing.” He stopped walking - Jihoon having to stop along with him - looked over his shoulder to look Jihoon straight in the eyes. “That wasn’t nothing.”

“You’re right,” Jihoon admitted, the monster slipping out from his open mouth. “but I can’t tell you.”

Soonyoung frowned. It didn’t last very long and the next second, he swivelled back around, continuing the trek back.

Then Jihoon stamped his foot down, crushing the ball of his heel harshly on the ground, bringing them to another stop. Soonyoung peered back curiously.

“Don’t you regret taking me in.” He accused.

Soonyoung flinched.

Then he softened.

“I couldn’t tell you.”

* * *

 

Caramel. 

That seemed to fit how the room felt. The furnitures were a lovely shade of brown, light and solid at the same time. The windows were open wide, wind filtering in through the trees and the faded green curtains, carrying a sweet scent, welcoming, comfortable.

And Hong Jisoo sat patiently amidst it all, skinny figure and doe eyes so warm, so kind.

Even the door shut gently, almost no sound to its swing and then a click so faint. Jihoon didn’t know how to disrupt this peace.

“Good afternoon, Mr Lee.” Joshua called out, looking at him and Jihoon looked back. “Make yourself at home.” He gestured around to everything.

Jihoon played with his fingers as his feet took him to the plushy couch. In front of him, an array of biscuits and beyond that, the smile of his counsellor.

What a weird thing to say. Counsellor. His counsellor. Honestly he never expected things to turn out like this. Really, not that anything that happened over the past few months were anywhere within his expectations, although that’s besides the point.

The occurrence happened naturally. The first time Wonwoo handed him his weekly wages, he immediately put it into paying for his necessities, because he wasn’t going to burden Soonyoung like that. Then after came the clothes, so Soonyoung didn’t constantly need to share. Slowly, he amassed a small saving, money to call his own, something he felt funny having.

He had a plan too. He’d build back his personal studio, first he’d save enough for the keyboard, the editing programme, then he could make music again, maybe take small production work here and there. Then, with the extra cash, he would be free to buy more equipment, and he’d take less shifts at Wonwoo’s bookstore, spend that time looking for a gift, for Soonyoung, for all the compassion and dare he say, tenderness that he received.

The counselling sessions weren’t a part of that plan, but he mentioned a bit to Wonwoo, about wanting to fix himself, to be someone worthy. Wonwoo had been supportive and encouraging, and now Jihoon wouldn’t be able to buy that keyboard but it was okay for now.

Mostly okay.

He was very nervous, twirling the hem of his shirt, _his_ shirt, and completely unsure of how well of an impression he was making as Jisoo prepared the coffee.

“Should we get started?” Jisoo suggested, setting down the cups.

“Erm, yeah, okay.”

Jisoo smiled encouragingly at him. “Well let’s start with the basics. Although I already know, will you tell me your name again?”

A simple question. “Lee Jihoon.”

“How old are you this year?”

“25.”

“Are you employed?”

“Yes.”

“And what do you do?”

“I work at a bookstore.”

Jisoo nodded, looking genuinely interested. “Nice, tell me more about it.”

Jihoon found his tongue relaxed. It was still a simple question, still about things he was comfortable with. He could answer easily, especially with his jaw smoothed into motion by the previous questions, and the hot coffee loosening the back of his throat.

It was very easy how the words come, they’ve already been building up for a long time just waiting to be set free, and Jisoo merely had to place his warm hand on that wall for it to all melt away.

Their session ended with Jihoon in tears, spilling and spilling and spilling. _It hurts. I keep thinking Jingi will show up at the next corner, the next road, and I don’t want him to see Soonyoung. I don’t want Soonyoung to see him either. It’ll be better for everybody if I disappear go away but I also can’t do that because I’m so attached to Soonyoung’s kindness. I hate myself. I don’t want to be hated._ Jisoo handed him the tissues, and with a hand firmly on the smaller man’s shoulder, faced him directly in the eyes.

“Let me tell you something.”

Jihoon peered at him, blurry through the tears.

“People seem to think that going to a counsellor means their problems are instantly solved but we are not miracle workers. It takes equal work on their part and the fact that you came here yourself is already proof enough of how much you’re willing to put in.”

Jihoon sniffled and choked.

“You are brave and strong, it is very admirable. Believe in that.”

Then neither Jihoon nor Jisoo said anything, although Jisoo watched over carefully as the younger male let out everything.

At the end, he guided Jihoon to the sink, let him rinse his face, and then blotted him dry before sending him off with a smile that was starting to seem like a trademark.

* * *

 

Fate was a peculiar thing.

By some twist, Soonyoung was exactly right on the money. “What if you catch a cold?” His words rang out into the night sky, and now he was bundled under two blankets, bemoaning his destiny between sneezes.  

“This is totally not fair.” He sniffled. “How are you completely fine? If anything you were out for like 20 seconds more than me.”

Jihoon hummed, scavenging about where Soonyoung had told him the medicines were for pills of Panadol. “Guess this proves that idiots can catch colds.”

“Excuse me, /sniffle/ that’s a perfectly reasonable, /sniffle/ time-tested saying, and only goes to prove that you’re the idiot here.” He wriggled around so he could pull out a finger to stab in Jihoon’s direction.

“No, no, I stand by my statement.” He walked back to the male with the medicine in one hand and a glass of water in the other, “I bet they’ll give me a Nobel Prize for my breakthrough discovery.”

Soonyoung delayed popping the pill as long as possible so he could display the pout that settled firmly onto his lips.

“Come on, take your medicine and get better.”

In a last ditch effort to show his rebellious spirit, Soonyoung stuck out his tongue before taking his pills.

Jihoon rolled his eyes as he took the empty glass back to the kitchen. Then he came back and wordlessly pressed his fingers against Soonyoung’s forehead. “You’re still warm.” He said it in concern, in a voice quivering just so.

Soonyoung smiled, cheeky, “well, it’s Panadol not the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Jihoon huffed, flipped his fingers over the flick that very forehead he was just touching. Annoyingly, Soonyoung giggled at him.

“Just go to sleep, get some rest.”

Although Soonyoung protested, they both knew he was already slipping away, as the fatigue soaked into his bones and whispered to him a tempting spell. And the last of what he said was ruined by his mouth falling asleep, turning the words to gibberish, but still he extended a hand and hooked a finger weakly through the fabric of Jihoon’s long sleeve.

“Sleep, Soonyoung. I’ll… I’ll be right here.”

Jihoon perched over to stroke him gently over his head. He leaned more of his weight onto the mattress, sharing the quiet space. It was too quiet, so Jihoon started humming an old lullaby.

 

 _I see the moon_ _  
__The moon sees me_ _  
__God bless the moon_ __  
And God bless me

 _I see the stars_   
_The stars see me_   
_God can’t be arsed_ _  
_ For idiots like me

 

**

 

Strange shuffling sounds entered his senses, Jihoon was suddenly aware of it and he woke up like a flick of a switch, eyes flying open. The first thing he noticed was the unnatural dark colour of the mattress, but then his memories catch up to his thoughts and he remembered that he was sleeping on the couch because Soonyoung was sick.  

Speaking of, he sat himself upright, looking for the source of the noise that he was hearing and sure enough, Soonyoung was in the kitchen.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, already half-way through standing.

“No.” Soonyoung shook his head, voice miserable. “I couldn’t sleep well.” Then he sniffled, and Jihoon could see the puffiness clearly. He grimaced. He turned his head to glance at the clock, it was just past 6 in the morning. More than enough of time had passed since the last pill so Jihoon went straight for that, now familiar with the placement.

Soonyoung still felt warm to the touch but the idiot’s misplaced his thermometer and they have no way of being sure.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to a clinic?”

“S’fine. A little cold never killed nobody.”

As if debunking his own point, he swayed slightly on his feet.

Jihoon clicked his tongue but conceded.  

“Here, take them.” Jihoon handed over the pills. “Then go take a warm shower, it’ll help.”

“Bleh.” Soonyoung announced loudly when he downed the pills, then he sniffled and shuffled complyingly into the bathroom.

Jihoon made sure he got safely into the bathroom before he turned back away, looking for something to do. He hadn’t been sick himself in a long time. A vague feeling of unnatural tire and the churning of his stomach that caused him to reject every kind of food, bubbling from under his skin.

And his mother, plump and kind and sweet-smelling, wiping down his face occasionally, insisting he eat the porridge or he’d never get any better.

_Brrrring!_

His internal ramblings interrupted by the ringing of Soonyoung’s phone. Jihoon grabbed the device from the bedroom. Receptionist from Hell. Jihoon chuckled into his free hand.

Then he knocked lightly on the bathroom door. “Soonyoung, you’re getting a call.”  


“Who?” Soonyoung sounded weak.

“Seungkwan.”

“Geh. Answer it, answer it, answer it!”

Jihoon didn’t know where that urgency came from but he swiped right and held the phone to his ear in any case.

“Hello, hyung, geez what took you so long to respond?”

So this was what Seungkwan sounded like.

“Hyung are you there?”

“Hello.”

Seungkwan’s end of the line was suddenly silent.

“Yeah, erm, listen Soonyoung won’t be able to make it to work today. Or tomorrow, actually, probably. He’s err, sick.”

Jihoon frowned when Seungkwan didn’t respond promptly.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

“Wait, are you perhaps, Soonyoung hyung’s fair-”

**_dood dood dood_ **

Jihoon had the phone gripped way too tightly in his hand, and he could feel a burning heat pool in his cheeks.

 

(Seungkwan sat stunned, the beeping of a line dead coming from the receiver pressed to his ear, and his thoughts still as blank as his face.

“I found it!” Seokmin announced, barging into the room. “Hey, I found it, Looks like I didn’t leave it at Soonyoung’s after... what’s wrong?”

 “Seok-ah.” He started, “I think I spoke to Soonyoung hyung’s fairy.”

 “Huh?”

“Oh My God, he said Soonyoung won’t be able to come to work today or tomorrow, I mean, does that mean I think it means because- SEOKMIN!”

Seungkwan stopped because Seokmin was laughing.

“This is serious.”

“Uh-huh.” Seokmin replied, crouching down so he could envelope his boyfriend in a hug. “And we seriously need to get ready.”

Seungkwan pouted.

Well, if he was going to show his lips off like that. Seokmin leaned in for a quick peck.

His eyes widen. “Gross.” Then he mellowed. “Give me another.”

So Seokmin did.)

 

“Sorry, Seungkwan can get really huffy if you miss his calls.” Soonyoung stepped out of the bathroom, hair in wet clumps, carrying the clean smell of soap. “What did he want though?” 

Jihoon pursed his lips. “He never said. I did tell him you’re not showing up to work today though.”

“Oh thanks.”

“Anyway, where do they sell porridge around here, I’ll go buy you a bowl.”

“Near the park, I think.” Soonyoung pondered for a bit, “I’ll go with you.”

“What? No, that defeats the whole point, you should rest.”

“Come on, fresh air is also good.” He was wearing a stupid grin.

Jihoon sighed. This moron. “Wear a mask at least. And bundle up.”

“Roger!”

**

 

It was such a risk being out here in the day, but Jihoon supposed he’d always been foolish, because he took one look at the beauty of the morning sky in this part of town, a sight he’d never stopped to take in before, and suddenly that fear was backseat, allowing Soonyoung to grab him by the hand and pull them into the park.

Just like the Chinese food place, the park was familiar and not. There was a time when he too, argued over whose turn it was on the swing, absorbing the sun rays, the condensation on the popsicle stick running down his arm. The trees were still green, but shorter. The playground was still there, but smaller. And surely there were new signs erected, some taken away.  

The porridge place was just through, and Jihoon insisted that he order takeout for them both, and since there was a queue, Soonyoung opted to wait by the roadside.

Jihoon didn’t like the closeness of the patrons in the queue, the hot air trapped between them, the clanging of the shopkeeper’s utensils loud and ringing. It’s a big relief when he finally got out of there, plastic bag hanging victoriously off his arm.

When he got back, Soonyoung was squatting unsteadily, back facing him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t panic. 

He crossed their distance in three strides.

Soonyoung looked up when he felt the presence by his side, and his eyes crinkle up. “Look!”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. Because he had merely been playing with a stray dog, now Jihoon looked ridiculous.

“Our food’s gonna get cold.”

“But it’s so cute.” Soonyoung gushed. Jihoon couldn’t tell if the red sitting on his cheeks were from the fever or the cuteness.

The pup looked expectantly at Jihoon.

“Okay, it is cute.”

“Woah, you got him to call you cute.” Soonyoung said to the dog. “That’s, like, an achievement.”

Jihoon groaned incredulously. “Oh come on.”

“Don’t worry,” Soonyoung stood up, brushed his knees a bit, “you’re still number one cute in my book.”

Because Jihoon looked away, looked down, he saw the pup paw cutely at Soonyoung’s pant leg. Well, it was cute.

“The dog’s definitely cuter than you though.”

Soonyoung put a hand over his heart, “you wound me so.” He would have gone on, Jihoon knew, twirl about and wave his hands everywhere, but he was interrupted by a series of loud sneezes.

“See? Geez, let’s go home.” Jihoon grabbed him then, by the wrist, with his free hand, and they walked back with Soonyoung’s half-serious complaints and Jihoon’s half-serious counters.

* * *

 

 

Here are two facts.

 

  1. Seungkwan was a sucker for pastries
  2. Seokmin was Soonyoung’s bestfriend



 

Naturally, when Soonyoung showed up at the school with a full box of sweet treats that Seungkwan just so happened to be craving, something was up.

“Kwannie,” Voice dripping saccharine, he sidled up to his friend at the counter. “Want some?” He presented the contents.

Seungkwan looked up, saw Soonyoung in a hoodie and a mask, but his eyes were definitely smiling way too brightly at him. He stuck an accusatory finger in his face.

“You! How could you?” 

“Woah.”

“First of all, I am offended, how could you not tell me you have a boyfriend!”

“I have a boyfriend?” Soonyoung asked.

“He plays dumb.” Seungkwan whipped around to tell the wall. “He plays dumb with me!”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Seungkwan.” He assured.

But Seungkwan’s face grew mortified instead. “Then you’re only sleeping with him? That’s rough buddy.”

“I’m not sleeping around with anyone either, what the heck.”

“Wow, lie to my face. Lie to my ancestors. Lie to my freshly polished desk.” Seungkwan slammed a hand firmly down onto the wood furnishing.

“What are you talking about?”

“I called you the other day, at 6am, note the time, and another guy answers the phone, what could possibly be going on, Soonyoung?”

No hyung. He was serious.

“There could be circumstances,” Soonyoung defended. “Besides, what did you even call me for?”

Casually, throwing his hand back, he replied, “Seokmin thought he might have left his files at yours the last time he was over.”

“Okay, but why did you call me then?”

“Well, division of labour, he continued searching while I call, it’s efficient.”

Soonyoung calmed down significantly, suddenly slow and deliberate. “So what you’re saying is, you were at his place?”

“Yes.”

“At 6am in the morning.”

Seungkwan’s statement came right back round full circle to bite him in the ass.

“Shut up.”

Although Soonyoung had yet to say anything, but they could both hear it on the tip of his tongue.

“Well, I mean, congratulations mate. You got a dicking.”

“What will it take to shut your mouth.” Seungkwan said through his teeth.

Soonyoung set down the box and started walking away. “Extended lunch would be nice.”

“Insufferable.”

Soonyoung barked out a laugh.

It wasn’t often he managed to one-up Seungkwan, so he was going to enjoy it before it all (undoubtedly) went to shit.

**

 

It was lunchtime. They were kind of facing the same direction, a few degrees tilted towards each other to indicate any sort of acknowledgement of their companionship. Jihoon almost squirmed but that wouldn’t be very nice, so he did his best to stare intensely at the sandwich in his hand instead. Wonwoo was equally invested in his sandwich, it seemed. It was as good a time as any.

“It’s Jihoon.” Jihoon said, breaking their silence. 

Wonwoo blinked just once. “Come again?”

“My name is Jihoon.” Jihoon clarified with a small shrug, nonchalant, not meaning anything. “Lee Jihoon.”

“Hoho, this is a surprise.” His attention caught, Wonwoo turned to face the man he could now attach a name to. “And to what do I owe this bout of honesty, Fairy Woozi-ssi?”

Jihoon shrugged again, crinkling his nose. “I never liked that nickname.”

“Riiight.”

“Anyway!” Jihoon spat out, intentionally not looking at Wonwoo. “Trading secrets, wasn’t it?”

Wonwoo whistled. He gently set down his half-eaten sandwich and disappeared into the shelves without another word.

“Okay, secret right, no matter which book you brought back, I wasn’t actually going to hire you.”

Tucked away in the back of the shop, Wonwoo laughed at the expression Jihoon must surely he sporting.

“Asshole.”

“Can you blame me? I know nothing about you, and you apparently have no qualifications or experience in books or sales. I was going to make something up no matter what you brought but,” He emerged with that same blank spine Jihoon had chosen on his first day, “But you picked this one.”

Jihoon tilted his head, not understanding.

“This book is not for sale. It’s not even really a book.”

He cracked it open, the pages flipped and revealed themselves, decorated from corner to corner with drawings.

“It belongs to Junhui. Kind of like a diary but with pictures.”

Jihoon let go of a light laugh, thinking of sharp lines and painful looking kicks, “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Exactly.” A beat. “You know I hated Junhui when I first met him but look at us now, that’s why.” He pointed at Jihoon, offering a small smile. “I think my reasons for not hiring you are still valid, of course, but Soonyoung trusts you, and I trust Soonyoung.”

Jihoon felt his bones petrify, put a funny stiffness to his shoulders, affecting his muscles and suddenly he was clamping onto the poor bun too hard, leaving prints.

Wonwoo shuddered.

“Oh my God, can’t believe I just said that. Listen, what happens in this place, stays in this place, understand.”

He moved fast, going first to put the book back with hurried steps, and then showing back up at the counter, seating himself back down on his stool beside Jihoon, grumbling under his breath. Jihoon watched all this blankly, brain malfunctioning.

“Okay, you know what, I’m going to tell you about the time Soonyoung locked himself and the cleaner lady in the janitor’s closet just because I can.”

Something about that snapped Jihoon back.

“Hey.” He rasped out, seniority and superiority be damned.

Wonwoo paused, all the life in his features coming to a sudden halt.

“Thank you.” He smiled.

“You’re welcome.” Wonwoo smiled back.

“You were going to tell me a story?” And Wonwoo smiled even more.

**

 

“You… wanted to meet me?”

The bigger man, Seungcheol, Soonyoung believed his name was, turned towards him with distrust oozing out of every pore.

“Soonyoungie, you came!” Jeonghan exclaimed, swatting Seungcheol on the arm on his way to extending said arm to Soonyoung.

Soonyoungie?

He thought, taking a seat across from the duo in the quaint little cafe they were currently at. It was all Jeonghan’s idea. Jeonghan who texted him about a week after their encounter at the mart. Jeonghan who said they should meet up since they have a mutual acquaintance now. Jeonghan who chose this cafe, some distance from Soonyoung’s dance school that he had to bargain Seungkwan extra lunch time for, and leave Woozi to the unpleasantness of Jeon Wonwoo for more time than necessary.

“Yes? Well, you said you wanted to talk.” He focused on looking at Jeonghan only, filtering out Seungcheol’s glare-daggers.

Said man was entirely enthusiastic. “Yeah, I did!” Then the smile dropped. “I want to get to know you, you see.”

Soonyoung felt his throat grow dry. He saw Seungcheol smirk at his shock and suddenly understood which one before him was going to be more dangerous.

It was, how do you say, ‘going to shit’.

“So let’s get started. First of all, who exactly are you?”

**

 

“So…” Jihoon said, catching Soonyoung’s attention. They had just clamoured onto the bed, ready to turn in now that the day was done. “You and the cleaner, huh?”

Soonyoung groaned loudly into his hand, “this is why I take you away from Wonwoo at lunch.”

“And here I thought it was because you liked my company.”

“I’d like it more, if you didn’t get weird impressions of me.”

“Think you played yourself from the start there.”

Soonyoung sent one well aimed finger at the side of Jihoon’s ribs and the younger male exploded into a yelp.

Well two can play at that game, Jihoon counterattacked and Soonyoung squeaked. So Soonyoung went in again. Two grown men thrashing about in a tickle fight like children, a mess of limbs and roaring laughter. Then Soonyoung went in with extra force.

And Jihoon whined, honest to God mewled. Both of them froze, it was hard to say who was more shocked, really. Soonyoung was surprised at the sound he heard, Jihoon was surprised at the sound he made, though it was to no one’s surprise they lost their balance, crashing onto the floor. Jihoon on top of Soonyoung.

For almost a minute, there was nothing. No one saying anything, holding their breaths, waiting, and only the moonlight danced around from above.

“You still got your cold?” Jihoon asked.

“Nope, it’s all gone.” Soonyoung replied.

Jihoon smiled as he leant in, and Soonyoung giggled as he craned up, where they met each other halfway, lip to lip, and happiness.

* * *

 

After a few weeks at his new job, Jihoon was getting pretty used to noticing the entrance of a new customer. There weren’t any bells or chimes at the door, but still there would be this swelling rise of noise, a gush of wind that had a different weight, different smell, and he would know. 

Today, too, he felt the person more than he saw them. Someone tall with light footsteps. Jihoon poked his head out from behind the shelves to greet them, like a good employee.

“Welcome.”

The stranger was dressed in street clothes, mask and ugly baseball cap to hide his identity.

“It’s you?” He asked, an excitement to his voice, almost lighting up but not quite.

“Is it me?”

“Soonyoungie’s new… friend.” He was unsure about the ‘friend’ part.

Jihoon flinched. “Who-”

“Jun?” Wonwoo exclaimed excitedly, bursting out from somewhere. “You’re back!”

“Wonuwonuwonu.” Jun cheered, extending his arms out for a hug that Wonwoo reciprocated immediately.

“Gross.” Jihoon said.

“Ya, you and Soonyoung kissed on the street and I didn’t call you out for it.”

This caught Junhui’s interest. “Hey, introduce us.” He nudged at his boyfriend, still enveloped firmly in his arms.

“Oh right.” Wonwoo jerked slightly. “This is my boyfriend, Wen Junhui.” Jihoon noticed the pride in his smile.

Junhui made a small bow. “Pleasure.”

“And Jun, meet erm,”

He trailed off, raising an eyebrow at Jihoon. Jihoon thought for a moment, but then he tightened his face in a look of resolution and nodded at him. Wonwoo nodded back.

“Meet Jihoon, a new employee, and Soonyoung’s…” Man, introducing Jihoon was difficult.

_“he’s my fairy.”_

“Fairy?”

Jihoon choked. However, the statement seemed only to amuse Junhui, who flashed a great grin at what he thought was a petname. “Good for Soonyoungie, why I never thought he’d find love again after-”

Wonwoo knew the end of that sentence before it even left Junhui’s mouth, how could he not, and he knew he wouldn’t make it in time to shut Junhui up, his reflexes too slow.

Across, Jihoon had never seen his boss in such a state of panic before, eyes blown wide with urgency. He would have laughed, truly he would have.

“-what happened with Seokmin.”

Oh.

**

 

“I feel like I did something wrong.” Junhui voiced, poking at the cacti on the counter. He’d just watched Jihoon leave the shop after ending his shift. Wonwoo tells him the younger male goes to look for Soonyoung at this time, and Junhui can’t help the heavy wish in his heart that that plan wouldn’t change. “I said something bad again, didn’t I?”

“You have a knack for that.” Wonwoo tried for a joke. It fell a little flat. Then he popped outside to flip the sign for ‘Closed’, coming back to ruffle Junhui’s hair. “Hey, you didn’t mean any harm.”

“The road to hell.”

Wonwoo sighed, looking wistfully away. “Call me crazy, but I have this feeling that you could actually be helping them.”

Junhui raised an eyebrow.

“I hope they take this chance to talk it out.”

“I don’t really get it.” Junhui shook his head.

“Don’t sweat it.” Wonwoo shrugged, and now he was sliding himself into the space behind the counter, hip pressed against Junhui’s, hand finding his. “I missed you. How was New York?”

Junhui regarded the obvious change of topic with only so much a quirk of the head before he shifted gears. “I didn’t get to walk around the city much because of the training but it was really cool. Really lively.”

Wonwoo hummed. “At least the training went well then?”

And suddenly Junhui was in his element, talking at a rapid fire rate about forms and postures and breathing, sometimes in Chinese, Wonwoo was familiar with it all. Then he moved on to the trainers, the masters, the other students, and what they did and how they did and how much there was to learn.

Wonwoo listened attentively. He always listened when Junhui spoke, even since back then. Junhui always looked detached, spacey, like some part of him wasn’t grounded in this world, but get close to him, get him to open up, and you’ll see just how deep the roots really go. Only special people got to see Junhui like this, and Wonwoo loved this side of him so, so much.

“I got you a souvenir, of course.” Junhui declared. He fished around his bag and whipped something out with a happy expression.

And it was the cheapest looking comb, green and shaped like the Statue of Liberty. Typical Junhui.

And Wonwoo picked it from the man’s palm, examining it, a smile playing on his lips. Typical Wonwoo.

“This is atrocious.”

“I know!”

They laughed.

“Come on, I have to put this up somewhere.” Wonwoo announced, taking the lead to go around his store, searching for a place to display his gift. Junhui followed languidly from behind.

Past the framed photos, the posters, the assortment of strange trinkets littered all over the place, the two of them chatting idly about the weather, small talk that largely filled up their gap.

“You still keep that?” Junhui asked, incredulous, chancing upon a particular brown book with the side blank.

Wonwoo was shelves away from him but he knew what he was talking about.

“Of course. All presents from you are worth treasuring.”

This entire shop was a testament to that. The cacti were gifted by Junhui, boldly, with sand under their toes against the backdrop of the setting sun. The photos were given by Junhui, timidly, soft blushes and stutterings over coffee and cake.  
  
“Sucker.”  

“You know it.” Wonwoo sing-songed, finding the blu-tack. “Hey come over here a second. I need to reach up.”

Junhui came as he was asked, finding Wonwoo waiting cutely beside a shelf, both hands holding onto the comb dearly.

“Are you sure it’ll stay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

So Junhui doesn’t question any more, just went over and wrapped his arms strongly around Wonwoo’s waist.

One, two, hoist.

Wonwoo rose, reaching out his hand to get to his task of sticking the souvenir to the shelf, leaning his weight back because he knew Junhui was there.

When he was done, he tapped the arm, and Junhui let him down.

And it was so predictable, Wonwoo saw it coming a mile away, the moment his feet touch the floor, Junhui spun him around, like they were dancers in a ballroom, so that they were face to face.

“May I have this dance?”

Wonwoo scoffed.

Which was good as affirmation, and Junhui held him close, one step, two step, tap tap tap, spinning and twirling across all the expanse of the shop that was theirs.

** 

 

The words left unspoken weigh heavier on his tongue than the rice he he scooped into his mouth. Then he swallowed. Woozi sitting across from him seemed to be having thoughts that he was biting onto too, and he flushed those down with hot soup.  

They didn’t speak much when Jihoon showed up at the dance school (Seungkwan was off on a toilet break), because Jihoon had been uncharacteristically down when he walked in, like he was carrying a wall.

Uncharacteristically? Soonyoung pondered. No, it was more like reversion, he had been very sad when they first met, hadn’t he? Suddenly he had trouble swallowing. The air hanging thick and stifling.

The meal went by slowly. Hands biding time for the courage that never came. Clink, clink, metal cutlery against the ceramic plate. Tick, tick, the clock moving on at the same pace it always did.

Knock, knock on the door. A familiar scene.

Jihoon shot out of his seat, chopsticks clattering to the floor. He hadn’t heard anything of Seokmin paying a visit today. Then why?

Soonyoung was equally surprised, almost flying to the peephole.

“Eep!” He squeaked, stepping back. Jihoon wanted to ask him why, but his feet graze past the fallen chopstick, and Soonyoung’s whipped his attention over with a snap. The door boomed again, louder.

‘Get away, hide.’ Soonyoung mouthed, gesturing wildly in the direction of the bathroom. _Get away. Hide._ Jihoon needn’t be told twice.

He’d just closed the door when he heard Soonyoung stammer out, “m-m-mum, I didn’t hear that you were coming.”

Then a distinctively woman voice came floating down, a bit on the high side in pitch, still faint enough to be from further away, and Jihoon shivered. “Presumably, since I didn’t tell you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because you were sick.” She said, nonchalant. A mother naturally cared about her son.  “I boiled you some soup.”

“Oh thanks, mum.” Soonyoung extended his hands at the bag.

“Brat.” She swatted his hands away. “Move, I will heat it up for you.”

Soonyoung’s smile turned shaky. “Haha, mum I’m not a kid anymore, I can do it myself.”

But Mdm Kwon was having none of that.

“I haven’t cleaned up in very long either, it’s filthy in here.”

“Filthy? Your room was filthy everyday, don’t be silly.” She shoved past him with purpose, and then she stopped.

She sensed it immediately.

The feeling that more than one person lived in this house. There wasn’t quite a rational backing behind it, just a feeling stirring in her gut, woman’s intuition. The presence of another person imprinted in the walls, the shoe rack, the very essence of the space itself, embedded so deeply together.

And of course, the dining area like a crime scene, additional set of cutlery laid out, another person having just been in the chair abandoned at a haphazard angle, chopsticks on the floor.

“What is this about?”

“Ah, it’s, I have a friend over, yes. He had to rush to the bathroom though.”

She put down her bags carelessly on the floor. “Kwon Soonyoung, do you take me for a fool.” Her voice was rising, heated air rushing out from her diaphragm.

Soonyoung wilted.

“Is that what happened? You continued to see that guy behind our backs!”

“No, mum, I swear-”

“This is why you wanted to live alone? Scheming brat!”

“Mum, I-”

She ignored him, turned to march towards the flimsy bathroom door, banged against until it rattled.

“Come out here! Call him out here now!”

“Mum it’s not Seokmin, I swear.” Soonyoung pleaded, inserting himself between her and the door.

“Some other guy then?” She snapped. “Why do you continue to shame yourself this way?”

“But I, it’s not,”

“It is unnatural! We’re going back home, I’ll call up some friends, we’ll set you up with a good girl and this foolishness will all be over.”

Soonyoung didn’t look at her. “I won’t.”

For a moment, she was baffled.

“I can’t. I’m never going to settle with a girl. Mum, I’m-”

“You’re not! Don’t say it, you’re not!”

She stopped fuming awhile ago, Soonyoung noticed, now she was tiny, tinier than her small frame, and so broken.

“I’m sorry.”

That wasn’t what she wanted.

“I’m gay, mum.”

The final nail in the coffin, she brought her hand swinging. Soonyoung braced for the impact on his cheek, but the _clak_ of the door opening was a surprise, and the arms snaking around him, unexpected.

It stung. The pain was less than he expected, he’d been yanked back at the last second, yet more widespread, as he felt its tingle in his jaw and in his heart. He came back slowly, returning to his centre and staring back at his mother.

She was there for a few moments, Soonyoung scrambled to find something to say, otherwise she would leave. But he couldn’t, so she did.

She didn’t take her bags with her. And surprisingly, Soonyoung’s emotions collapsed before his legs, but Jihoon held him, of course he did, held him and held him and held him.

* * *

 

In the last days of March, the sun hung clear in the sky and occasionally there was rain. It was a lazy time for the world, and just after lunch, Jihoon busied himself with the re-arrangement of one of the shelves, Wonwoo having stepped out to make a quick trip to the bank.

There came the familiar sensation of someone entering, and Jihoon calmly put down the book in his hand to go to the front to greet the man who dressed haggardly, hair wild. 

“I found you!”

The guy hissed, grabbing Jihoon way too tightly by the wrist. And Jihoon shook, unable to pull away as he stared into the livid eyes of a nightmare.

 

Of Min Jingi.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧  
> \- the theme is drama
> 
> \- huzza, guys
> 
>  
> 
> \- soo, i stopped writing this for a bit and i kind of forgot how to write it  
> \--- the initial beats i had are kind of in a mess too, haha damn  
> \--- but somehow, this fic is nearing completion, there is just one chapter left to go and i can see the end  
> \--- really, hats off to people who write multi chaptered okay, i stressed so much, i'm dead  
> \--- i hope the fic/ chap was okay though
> 
> \- oh yeah [the lullaby's tune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jyCAYHXr-3U) and [the comb](https://cdn.citylab.com/media/img/citylab/legacy/2012/07/25/liberty.jpeg), lmao
> 
> \- final thing, this fic is actually close to 100 kudos and that's like eight groups of 17 so I'm really thankful  
> \--- and to the people who leave the kudos/ comments/ all manner of pleasantries, thank you guys a lot, really. it makes me vv happy and motivated  
> \--- love you all  
> \--- ( *’ω’* )  
> \--- @soon_uwu_hoon if you wanna cuss at me or smth


	5. april

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- dv, mentioned homophobia, a few curse words
> 
> \- strap in my dudes
> 
> \- there's gonna be a lengthy end note yo

Jingi was moving his mouth, saying something, hair unbrushed and eyes wild with a fire that seemed to be burning from his very soul.

But Jihoon could hear nothing over the loudness of the thoughts that swirled through his head, the rapidness of his heart pounding so hard it should have burst.

This was it, huh? Divine retribution. ‘Your sins always catch up to you.’ For every moment that he thought he was safe, a quiet visit to the park for ice cream, loitering at the mart once a week to buy supplies, the innocuous event dripped like a droplet into a cup, biding. And it was just a matter of time, naturally, when the cup would overflow. First a fine unsteady layer that rose mere millimetres above the rim, balancing precariously, holding tightly on. Then it would break. A single drop overflowing, spilling over, running freely down the smooth surface of glass. Just a matter of time.

Evidently the time was now.

And yet Jihoon still found himself asking over and over. How? How? How? How?

How was it that it was never when he took his bets, even though his new arrangements were a mere three bus stops away from where Jingi was, he’d never been caught.

Yet it was now, when he was a full sixteen stations away, in a place that had initially been so foreign to him, where his past finally found him, wound around tightly at his wrist.

“Impudent brat!”

Jihoon felt his head thrown one direction and only then realised, through the haze that was his thoughts, that he’d been slapped.

“Absolute son of a bitch!”

Another one.

He thought he might fall, but he was still being held upright, he registered, by that vice around his wrist. Somehow, that idea was disgusting. He yanked against it without a second’s hesitation.

Jingi’s eyes widened even further, or so Jihoon supposed, he didn’t really have to look at the guy to predict his behaviour, that knowledge was ingrained in him like second nature that no amount of soap could wash out. Instead he waited, eyes squeezed shut, for the inevitable. He could almost see it. The eyes widened, then narrowed, fist wound up, a cuss shooting through his throat.

“Motherfuc-oof!”

What?

Jihoon felt himself tumbling onto the floor. That was unexpected. Hurriedly, he propped himself up to see what had happened and found a lanky figure, standing proud against the light like an action hero. He held one of Jingi’s fists in his palm, strength radiating even from his fingertips. Already Jingi drew back his free hand to strike back.

Junhui smirked.

“You could hit me, but then it would be self-defense if I hit back, right?”

He pressed a bit harder, until Jingi was forcibly yanked forwards.

“And if I do happen to break a bone or two, why, that’s an unfortunate occupational habit, wouldn’t you agree?”

Sensing that it was no longer smart to continue pushing, Jingi pulled his hand back in a swift motion.

“You don’t know anything.” He spat.

“You’re causing trouble for my friend. In a place owned by my boyfriend. I think, whatever I don’t know doesn’t really matter.” Junhui said breezily, a slight shrug of his shoulders. Then he hardened, looked Jingi dead in the eyes and in a low tone, “leave right now and don’t ever come back.”

Jingi stepped back. He returned Junhui’s glare with defiance. For a few seconds, Jihoon was convinced he would not leave. But then he did, quietly, inoffensively, and he was gone just as suddenly as he had appeared.

Junhui followed his every movement with his eyes, scrutinising, until the disagreeable man was finally well beyond sight, before he crouched down to his companion.

“Are you okay?” The concern spilling from his lips, his furrowed brows, his hands flying everywhere, assessing for damage.

In the face of such kindness, Jihoon found his throat tightening, and his mind drawing a blank where words should be. Instead he dropped his head that was suddenly too heavy. What a failure. Then came the telltale prickle of tears, the blurring of his vision, and he held onto himself so tightly with the neverending mental chanting of ‘don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry’.

Except he did.

Of course.

Because he was a failure.

Junhui took two seconds and a blink before he disappeared. Jihoon didn’t want to look. But then the door closed with a click and Junhui was back by his side, coaxing him to move to the stool. In a state of mostly daze and sobbing, Jihoon felt rather than processed his body following the directions of the other man.

Next thing he knew, he was seated behind the counter, tissues and a warm mug of water placed before him. Not that he could reach for them, the way Junhui had him enveloped in a crushing hug as he did.

When Wonwoo made it back to his store some minutes later, he was completely surprised to find the sign flipped to ‘Closed’ despite it being right smack in the middle of the afternoon. At least he had a calm disposition, and carefully tested the handle. It sunk in without any resistance. Not locked then. And he slipped in quietly.

The scene he was greeted with was perhaps less surprising given that he already had several scenarios playing in his mind, but still enough to stun him for a beat. Because his boyfriend was hugging, squeezing, rubbing calming circles on the back of his only employee, who was crying pretty hard, shoulders shaking, peppered with the occasional hiccup.

He crossed over to the duo in a matter of strides.

Jihoon didn’t seem to realise he was there, but Junhui turned to look at him, a thousand messages flying across his face.

 _I don’t know what’s going on._ His expression screamed. _But be careful, I don’t want him crying any harder._

Wonwoo nodded. He’d known that Jihoon carried many burdens, some he shared, some he didn’t, and he really wasn’t very shocked to see him break down. He only wondered what the trigger was. For now though, he would stand on Jihoon’s other side, helping to wipe at the tears and snot.

None of them know how long they spend in that state. Although Junhui knew his arms were kind of sore, and Wonwoo knew his thighs slightly burned, and Jihoon felt lightheaded and vaguely out of breath.

“Are you feeling better?” Wonwoo asked, pushing back some of Jihoon’s hair.

It might have been the first words uttered between them.

Jihoon sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t apologise.” Junhui patted his shoulder. His eyes shifted around rather tellingly, looking like he was literally biting his tongue. Wonwoo cocked an eyebrow in his direction, and Junhui sighed. “Did you know that guy?”

Jihoon bristled.

‘Who?’ Wonwoo thought, but he waited.

They all waited for a time.

Finally, with a shaky breath, Jihoon whispered, “my ex.”

“Shit. Damn.” Junhui was livid, he jerked forward in a sudden motion. “I shouldn’t have let him go so easily.”

So whoever it was, the guy came here, into the shop, probably stirred up some trouble and made Jihoon upset until Junhui came, Wonwoo concluded. He had another, more pressing, issue on his mind though.

“Does Soonyoung know?”

Once more, Jihoon seemed to grow stiff in his seat. Then he gulped. Then he shook his head.

“I don’t… I didn’t…”

“That’s okay.”

But Jihoon snapped up, the most resolute he has looked so far. “I don’t want to see him yet.”

“You’ll have to see him eventually.” Wonwoo remarked. It seemed insensitive and cold. “But I get it, take some time, I trust you.”

“Thank you.” Though it was spoken softly because he was overwhelmed.

“Jun, take him to his home.” Wonwoo directed. He rested a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder, “Just rest for today, all right?”

Junhui nodded. “Okay, come on, what’s your address?”

Unexpectedly, Jihoon didn’t move from his seat. He looked up at Junhui’s questioning gaze with a sort of reluctance and embarrassment.

“I don’t actually have a proper place.” He squirmed as he said it.

Wonwoo and Junhui blinked at each other.

“Then where have you been putting up?” Junhui asked.

Jihoon recited an area, a street, the apartment number.

“Isn’t that-” went Wonwoo.

“-Soonyoungie’s place?” finished Junhui.

Holding his tongue, Jihoon’s non-answer was answer enough.

“Since when?!” Wonwoo squawked.

“Well,” Jihoon dragged. “About the start of the year…”

Wonwoo leaned back, a mental timeline materialising in his mind. “Oh my God.”

Junhui looked slowly between the two, not quite understanding. “What?”

With a loud groan, Wonwoo grabbed his hand, it was a grab that sent a message. _Don’t ask yet._ And he then he addressed Jihoon instead.

“You’re staying with us for the time being.”

Jihoon opened his mouth.

“No buts.”

And just to prove how final his statement was, Wonwoo began to walk away.

Jihoon hastily closed that mouth. But then he seemed to think of something important enough to raise, and before he knew it, he was grabbing for the retreating male’s sleeve.

“Wait, just, don’t let Soonyoung think that I’m leaving.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen in surprise. He regarded the fingers bunched desperately in the fabric of his sleeve. In that moment, he felt his heart clench a little.

“Yeah, I understand.”

**

As they had planned, Junhui took Jihoon to the house, which left Wonwoo to work alone in the bookstore for the remaining couple of hours until closing.

It was strange because he’d always been doing this by himself, and he initially didn’t even like the idea of how mysterious Jihoon was, but now he was missing the sounds of someone else working along with him in the space. How his short legs went pitter patter along the floor. How he couldn’t fit too many boxes in his arms and had to take extra trips all the time.

Finally, he thought he couldn’t bear, and he closed the shop early (a perk of being the owner), and simply waited for what would come.

That evening, Soonyoung barreled in covered in sweat. It was hard to tell if it was from all that dancing, or if he ran here.

“Hey Won, have you seen Woozi?”

There was no sense in delaying the chaos.

“I have to tell you something.” Wonwoo preluded, Lord knew he wasn’t very good with handling such cruel things. “A message, actually. From, you know. He says he’s going to be away for awhile.”

Naturally, Soonyoung was completely dumbfounded. “You mean…”

The atmosphere grew very tense, Wonwoo could almost understand what was going on in the other’s head. Why, if it were him in that position, he thought he would have broke already. There was a very significant change in Soonyoung’s countenance. To Wonwoo’s surprise it wasn’t anger, or resentment, or sadness, but a very strong sense of resignation.

“So he said that, huh?” Soonyoung said.

However it sounded so un-Soonyoung that for a second there, Wonwoo wasn’t entirely sure it was his friend who had uttered those words. He blinked. “Paraphrased, of course.”

Soonyoung laughed, it was such a bitter sound. “Sorry to have disturbed you then.” And he was ready to leave.

“Soonyoung!” Wonwoo still had something to say. “Wait for him.”

Soonyoung knew he really shouldn’t but he couldn’t help it. He looked over his shoulder, an air of self-deprecation in that wry smile. “And whose line is this?” 

Wonwoo inhaled. “Mine.” But he held fast. “But I’m saying this because he said something else. He said to not, and I quote, let Soonyoung think that I’m leaving.”

Here he expected a response from Soonyoung but he got none. Then again, the male wasn’t facing him anymore, and it was impossible to tell what flashed past his face.

“You will trust him, won’t you?”

Silently, Soonyoung went to the door, pulled it open. He was halfway out when he paused, “Thanks, Won.” Then he was gone.

Wonwoo slumped as soon as the click of the door shutting rang out. They’ll work out. He repeated. It’ll all work out. His little shop never felt smaller. Please let them work out.

Outside, Soonyoung powered through the streets barely looking at where he was going. His mind too preoccupied, entire body functioning on pure muscle memory. He didn’t answer Wonwoo at all, he noted. But he couldn’t because he was a coward. Always had been.

Trust him? What a riot. Soonyoung had never been able to do anything but, not since the start of their entire thing, whatever the thing even was. A relationship? A charade? A parody? No matter, because what they had was a house of cards waiting for the wind.

And if the gust swept everything up and away fluttering like petals in the sky, and if the gale blew so sharp, it pierced his eyes, then he would bury his face in his hands and hurt. Ignoring the changing lights of traffic, the rough bustle of strangers, and the heavy rain that beat relentlessly onto the Earth. It quite felt like the cusp of the end of time.

Still, till the end of time, Soonyoung would trust him.

* * *

 

Technically, it was sort of his third residence within six months and Jihoon kind of wanted to laugh at how adept he’d gotten at not having a place of his own.

Junhui was only a tad awkward, as he waved his arm proudly around upon pushing open the door.

“Well, as they say, make yourself at home! Mi casa es su casa.”

Then he kind of stepped back to let Jihoon enter first, not entirely sure about how to carry himself with a long-term guest.

Jihoon’s impression of the place was that everything was really sleek and clean, but somehow still very warm. He didn’t know Junhui very well yet, but he’d spent quite a bit of time with Wonwoo, trading secrets and all so he knew, on instinct, which parts were made of the latter, and the parts that weren’t must be the former. And he couldn’t help but marvel at how, if he’d known neither, then he would have thought it was a one man residence.

The colours of the walls were shades of black and grey, and the sofa was a simple ebony leather piece. Yet the couch cushions were a strikingly bright dandelion, the curtains hanging a subdued cream.

“Maybe you could take a seat, I’ll fix some tea.” Junhui suggested, flying into the kitchen. Just past the boundary, he froze, backpedalled. “Sorry, would you rather have coffee? We kind of only have teas but I could go to the store...”

 

_The refrigerator was shut, a bashful grin. “Ah, erm, well, I don’t eat the healthiest of breakfasts so there’s err… there’s, there’s nothing.”_

 

“It’s fine.” Jihoon’s lips curved up a fraction at the familiarity. “I’ll have the tea.”

Junhui made an ‘okay’ sign with his fingers, and resumed his quick path to the kitchen as if he hadn’t stopped.

He came out some time later, balancing two cups, white steam wafting off the surface. At first they talked about the practical stuff; where would you sleep? What about clothes and toiletries? Then other things slip in, you know we used to have more of these cups, but I accidentally broke one demonstrating something. Oh yeah, you’re a martial artist, right? Yup yup, I’ve won several awards you know, come, I’ll show you. I would prefer to show you some moves but you know, better not.”

 

_Trophies of all shapes and sizes stood in a line. Jihoon leant down to inspect one of them. XXX District, Dancing King 20XX 1st Place. “Hehe, pretty impressive wouldn’t you say? You must be thinking, Soonyoung’s actually kind of cool too.”_

 

“Definitely not.” He laughed a little as he said it.

Along the way, Junhui also ran down the general placement of rooms in the process. So the kitchen is down there, the toilet is that door. Wonwoo and I use the last room down the hall. And this room’s more or less a study area.

Then there was not much else to say. Not that it was awkward, they were rather comfortable in each other’s company now, but they’d discussed all the practical matters they could think of, and presently it was just downtime to process it all, while waiting for Wonwoo to come back before starting dinner.

As they wait together on the sofa, it started to rain. Jihoon grew even quieter, as if the raindrops washed his presence away. He rose, approached the glass window, placing one hand on the cold surface. Shit, Soonyoung didn’t bring his umbrella today. He recently misplaced it, that idiot. And he just recently recovered from being ill too… “I hope he’s okay.”

Junhui said nothing. Actually he pretended he didn’t hear. Cast nervous glances at the door and hoped Wonwoo would come back any moment now.

* * *

 

The rain followed him all sixteen stops, and he wasn’t feeling very well by the end of it.

Soonyoung thought it was kind of weird. Since it was his home, yet he wasn’t in too much hurry to return. After all he knew that there would be something missing when he entered. With too many traces of it left behind.

So he took the long way, yes, like the spineless person he kept proving himself to be. The path took him through the park. He passed the porridge place where he resolved not to look but could see anyway. The vendor busy with the crowd from the dinner rush, clang, clang, clang, the utensils. Once in awhile, the burly man shouted out an order, his accent somewhat rough around the edges and stern. “Dakjuk, two bowls.”

Soonyoung told himself he wouldn’t look. He didn’t. But he couldn’t yet walk away.

Suddenly there was something warm pressing against his leg.

That certainly returned some clarity to his thoughts, but he didn’t move any faster than usual to venture a look at what the foreign object could be.

Looking down, he saw a happy, familiar face. It was the little pupper he met some time ago. To be honest, it looked like a fairly generic stray dog, with a slightly dirty face and a lack of identification, but Soonyoung completely knew it was the same one. There was just something about it that stood out as being unique.

The pup sat on its back legs, staring at Soonyoung with it’s mouth open, happy panting. Soonyoung only looked at it impassively for some blinks. Sensing the lack of emotion, the puppy’s joy trailed off to a stop. Now it closed its mouth, lowered its head. Here and there, it would peek up without raising its head, such that there was a crease in its brow and it looked for all the world as if it had been kicked.

Soonyoung couldn’t bear that so he crouched down and put a heavy hand on the pup’s head.

As if pushing a button, the puppy’s happy expression came back instantly.

Mulling over that, Soonyoung lifted his hand, merely some centimeters over the creature’s head. Sad.

Pat. Happy.

Lift. Sad.

Pat. Soonyoung snickered. “Thanks buddy.” He ended up talking to the dog. Of course the dog didn’t understand. It glanced distractedly at some of the people passing them by, and then nudged against Soonyoung’s hand before the male could lift it completely again.

Amused, Soonyoung wound up stroking the dog right there in the pouring rain.

“Should I bring you home?” He asked.

The dog didn’t answer, but it shuffled closer just a teeny bit, and Soonyoung took it as a sign anyhow.

“Alright.” He grunted, scooping up the pup, as the animal offered no resistance. “Bring you home it is.”

And he found the strength to thread home.

Balancing the dog whilst trying to unlock his apartment door was a bit of an acrobatic trick, but he managed. Then, only after passing through the threshold of his house did he put the dog down.

The creature padded some steps from where it had been deposited, inwards into the house. It sniffed this way and that, peered at everything, and then it turned back to look at Soonyoung with something that was akin to puzzlement.

 

_Woozi had absolutely no idea what to do with himself. He waited, kind of trying to blend into the wall, one hand idly tracing the arm that he fell on, for Soonyoung to finish locking the door._

 

Soonyoung’s smile was kind of forced. “This way, let’s get you patched up.”

Well, they were both soaked to the bone.

He brought the thing into the bathroom, where he closed the doors on both sides, and ran the water. He had a vague idea that there were such things as dog shampoo and whatnot, so he decided he’d just shower it with water in the meantime.

Outside, the sky continued to rumble and roar.

Soonyoung ran through the rest of the motions rather routinely. He slapped together some very simple meal for dinner, giving a portion in a bowl, to his new friend. After dinner, he could think of nothing he particularly wanted to do, so he played with the dog, even trying to see if it knew any tricks.

Then, he thought he was ready to turn in early, there were still so many things to do the next day, the entire world continued to turn no matter what he felt.

Since there was no Woozi to stare out of the windows, Soonyoung would do it for him. He watched the rain so thick it fell like a sheet, heard the almost hypnotic sound of the wind blowing through the leaves.

The dog sat by his side; he ran a free hand through its fur.

“What would you classify the rain tonight?” He asked. “A shower? A tempest? Maybe even a downpour? I get this feeling that I’m seeing it to be more intense than it really is, you know what I mean?”

No response.

“To me, it could even be a hurricane.”

“Arf.”

Soonyoung looked down at the creature, his hand stilling into silence.

“Hurricane, huh?”

He crawled into bed and got ready to sleep.

* * *

 

He startled awake in the middle of the night, because the weight on the bed was wrong. There was no one there but him.

Hurriedly, his feet swung over the bed, and something furry brushed against his calf. He froze, midway through leaving the bedroom, one hand already on the door knob. Slowly, he collected himself, looked down to see the dog had migrated to the floor sometime during the night.

Now that he thought about it, he could no longer hear the rain. He dropped back onto the bed, elbow resting on his knee, head resting in his palm.

No, there wasn’t supposed to be anymore rain. He blinked. Warm liquid trailed down his face. Yeah, right.

* * *

 

“Wake up.”

Jihoon opened his eyes calmly, taking in the sight of Junhui towering over him and the bright yellow of the cushion-pillow in his periphery. It wasn’t that he didn’t catch any sleep but still it felt like there was a part of his brain that never fully switched off, leaving him half-aware of the emptiness of night. He shifted into a sitting position.

As he moved up, Junhui stepped back to make space.

“Huh… Didn’t expect that to go over so easily.” He commented. “In any case, good morning!”

The contrast between the cheeriness of greeting and the second-handedness of the delivery tickled Jihoon a little. He checked the clock on the wall (the same as the one in the shop), took notice of the colour of the sky outside.

“You’re up early.”

“Early to bed, early to wake, makes a man cool, handsome, and great.”

Jihoon chuckled. “Sound advice.”

“Exactly.” Junhui seconded. “”Now if only SOMEONE would listen.” He not-so-subtly directed that back at the bedroom door.

(Inside, Wonwoo slept on blissfully unaware, his nose twitched, he sneezed once, and promptly fell back into glorious slumber.)

“Anyway, I’m going to do some morning stretches, why don’t you join me?”

It wasn’t as if Jihoon had anything better to do. So he freshened up and followed Junhui to the nearby park.

Really it was a lovely place, where the sun shone bright, a brilliant sea of warmth, yet without the prick of heat to sting the skin. Even the wind stirred crisp and gentle, as if there hadn’t been a storm the night before.

Junhui was completely comfortable, he proceeded through each exercise with familiarity. On the other hand, Jihoon merely mimicked what he saw, and to a less effective degree. He flushed as he noticed how Junhui could spread his palms flat on the floor, whilst his own fingertips stopped just before the toecap of his shoes.

Unperturbed, Junhui even had enough breath to make light conversation.

“So, I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I wanted to know you better.”

“Uh, uh-huh.”

“Yeah, so, first question: are you and Soonyoung dating or not?”

Jihoon collapsed with a groan. How direct. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Junhui arched an eyebrow, his waist now bending sideways. “Does it have anything to do with the guy from yesterday?”

Sort of. “Yeah.” Despite knowing that there was so much more to explain.

Junhui raised a leg until his toes were pointing towards the sky. “But do you like him? The other guy?”

Jihoon was silent for a period, twiddling his thumbs. “I was so sure I did.”

“But not anymore?”

“We promised forever.”

Junhui looked unimpressed. “You will pardon me, but the only thing I saw of the guy was how he was hitting you.”

Jihoon couldn’t refute so he inhaled deeply.

Though Junhui pushed on, unwilling to let the matter die. He set his foot down with a resolute tap. “And what about Soonyoungie? Do you like him?”

“I don’t think I’m qualified to understand that word any longer.”

“Hmm…” Junhui hummed to himself. He was rotating an ankle in circles. “You know what I think? I think nothing ever lasts forever,” He turned and grinned, white teeth showing in the sunlight. “Because everything’s always changing, even you and me.”

* * *

 

Frankly Seungkwan felt a little insulted. Who did stupid Soonyoung think he was fooling? Putting a show of smiling like he did? That fool was never cut out for acting, and Seungkwan quite honestly wanted to strangle the truth out of him.

_What has got you so sad, you won’t even acknowledge that you are?_

He watched the male give a friendly pat on the back to one of his fellow dance teachers, then he happened to look over and they made eye contact. Soonyoung offered a small smile, again with the smiles that weren’t his.

Seungkwan immediately turned his head away. He really shouldn’t, it was not the time to be against his friend but the sight of it left such a discomfort in his stomach.

Apparently, Seokmin felt the same way. He mentioned it in passing, something off with the way his best friend was acting. Seungkwan sighed loudly at his timesheets, wrapped up too deeply in his musings to notice a customer at the desk.

“Excuse me?”

Seungkwan startled but he scrambled to normalcy. “Oh dear, I’m sorry I didn’t notice, how may I help you?”

The person before him was handsome, manly features framed with long hair that made him look somewhat unreal. This person smiled kindly, as if in understanding, and when he spoke, his voice was like chocolate. “I’m looking for someone actually. Is there a Kwon Soonyoung around?”

‘Was this person related to Soonyoung’s current mood?’ Was Seungkwan’s initial thought. Then he remembered the dude was a dance instructor and it wasn’t rare for people to look for him specifically.

“Yes! He’s,” he quickly scanned the timetable. “He should be free right now, I could fetch him for you, if you’d like.”

“That’d be nice.”

It was only at this point did Seungkwan notice he had a companion with him. A male of similar height who stood quietly by, yet with an air of intimidation. Seungkwan had a fleeting thought of how long his eyelashes were.

All the same, he called for Soonyoung without any hassle. Soonyoung himself didn’t seem too taken aback to be asked for.

Until he emerged from the back and tensed.

“Hello Soonyoungie.” Jeonghan waved.

“Er…”

“You have a lot of explaining to do, young man.” And he quite obviously had less than wholesome intentions behind that lift of his lips.

“Sorry to trouble you again,” Jeonghan returned his attention to Seungkwan, “but how long of a break do you think my friend could afford to take?”

Seungkwan had always been quick on his feet. “30 minutes tops.”

“Great. I’ll return him before then.”

Then he was off, dragging the sputtering Soonyoung by the wrist.

“Sorry he’s kind of… demanding.” The other guy said, rising to follow the duo, although he didn’t seem particularly urgent.

“If he comes back worse than before, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Seungcheol laughed, not a shred of maliciousness in it. “I’ll do my best.”

**

Soonyoung knew exactly why he was being hauled off by one very angry Jeonghan. Yet the man didn’t stop or say anything until they found a cafe and went inside, taking a seat in the corner most booth.

“Why have you been avoiding us?”

Us. Jeonghan and Seungcheol. Because they always operated as a unit. _Pull yourself together, Soonyoung._

“He went away.”

Seungcheol just caught up and joined them at the table, sat snugly beside Jeonghan.

“What?” Jeonghan narrowed his eyes.

 _Why make him say it again?_ “He left.” Soonyoung almost spat that out.

Neither Jeonghan nor Seungcheol say anything. The silence was too heavy.

“In the end, he would go again. But it’s okay, really, I’ll accept it. There is nothing more I can say. I don’t know what I have to say to you guys anymore either.” 

_Bam!_

Soonyoung looked up, he hadn’t even noticed he had been staring at the table, to see Jeonghan ha;f-standing, his hands firmly planted on the table.

“Don’t give me that rubbish.” He spat. “I don’t know what’s going on now but we came today to talk to you.”

He slinked back into his seat. Seungcheol put a reassuring hand over his.

“Do you know, how scary it felt when you suddenly stopped responding? It was like, it was like that time all over again.”

_That time._

The mention of it was brittle, like walking on thin ice, ears alert for the telling sounds of cracks.

“Look, I’m sorry, I am, but…”

Jeonghan huffed. “Don’t just decide things for yourself.”

“Am I not allowed?!” Soonyoung snapped. “What does it even matter now anyway? I… It’s hard to swallow.”

Then Seungcheol cleared his throat. “What actually happened?”

Soonyoung told them, as much as the words cut like thorns to leave his throat. _He’s going to be away for awhile._

Seungcheol nodded empathetically. “But don’t you think there is worth in the fact that he actually gave you a heads up?”

Jeonghan cast his eyes down. “He didn’t give us such a blessing.”

“It’s painful.” Soonyoung admitted. All I’ve been doing is blindly holding on to this faith and “it hurts like hell.”

For a time Jeonghan and Seungcheol looked at each other. It was Jeonghan who moved first then, cupping one of Soonyoung’s cheeks with his hand. “I understand, but you know he came back once without warning.”

Seungcheol mirrored the action the other way, held the other cheek. “I have a strong inclination to believe he’ll come back again.”

Soonyoung found that it was hard to speak with his cheeks pressed like that.

“You can talk to us whenever.” Jeonghan laughed airily. “We’re friends now.”

And then Soonyoung sniffled.

“Aigoo, don’t cry, I’ll go get us something to munch on, Cheol scoot.” He pushed past the guy in the outer seat, almost skipping in his new purpose.

Which left just Soonyoung and Seungcheol alone in the booth.

By now, Soonyoung’s nose was tinged with a fine coat of red and he had to gulp before he spoke. “Thanks for everything. I’m sorry I was shitty.”

Seungcheol ruffled his hair. “Nah, don’t sweat it. Besides, I really meant what I said.”

“How confident.” Soonyoung said but it wasn’t necessarily laced with bitterness as much as before.

Strangely Seungcheol didn’t reply right away, instead he looked on, somewhere in a distant place, before he returned to Soonyoung’s questioning gaze. “Life’s too short.” He said, the words heavy, the tone light, “so hold on to things precious, and let miracles be.”

 

(When Soonyoung came back, he didn’t look any worse than before. He came in and he smiled, and the smile still held a bit too much weight than Seungkwan would have liked but it was still a good sign all the same.

At break, Seungkwan went to find Soonyoung in the pantry, offering a tray of fruit tarts.

Soonyoung picked up one pastry, extracted all the strawberries from it, and giggled when Seungkwan made an affronted face.)

* * *

 

Jihoon woke up on the sofa, working out the cricks in his neck. He went into the bathroom, pinched and twirled a strand of his hair as he stared in the mirror. Alright. He turned on the tap and leant down.

Soonyoung set the bowl of food on the floor for the dog, which bounded happily over to gobble it up, and pawed at Soonyoung’s legs before he was done, reluctant to let him leave. Soonyoung pouted back, scratching the creature behind the ears as consolation, then he moved on again.

The door clicked close. Jihoon double checked the stuff in his bag, patted his pocket to make sure he had his money with him, and faced the elevator with a deep inhale.

Ding-a-ling, chimed the bell. Soonyoung ran over to his friend at the counter. Seungkwan swatted the older male with his clipboard as soon as he caught sight of the guy. “You’re late you little shit! Hurry up, I bribed Jongup to cover for you. You owe me.” Sort of out of breath, Soonyoung managed a grin.

“Thank you.” Jihoon bowed, receiving his change. The affable looking hairstylist gave him a thumbs up. On the way out Jihoon caught the faint reflection of himself in the glass of the door. He allowed himself a second to admire his new hair colour. It was a bright shade of pink. Alright. He looked into his bag again, then at the green traffic light.

Soonyoung crossed the road at a leisurely pace, showing up at Wonwoo’s bookstore sometime after lunch. Junhui was out at the front, watering the cacti, when he showed up. “Here,” Soonyoung fished around the plastic bag that dangled from his arm. He pulled out a box of taffies. Wonwoo poked his head around the corner as Junhui took the box. “Because I’m so sweet.” He was all but shoved out of the store by a disbelieving Wonwoo.

With a push, he was sort of ejected from the bus. As the bus door hissed shut, the vehicle puttering away, Jihoon stood and looked at its retreating form, half tempted to run after it and never look back. But he couldn’t do that. Instead he forced himself to walk, and it was a wonder how familiar the air smelt and the world sounded, like he returned into a bubble. He recognised the places he passed. And finally arrived at his destination.

Soonyoung blinked. He halted. There was a shop down the street that he hadn’t seen before. They looked obviously new as well, the way the sepia hue just hadn’t sunk into their walls yet, maybe, making the place stick out. Curious, he approached it, and was greeted by a person who looked foreign. “Hey, we just opened.” He indicated the interior. “We sell second hand electronics.” Soonyoung stepped further in, honestly taken by the array of gadgets lying around. Then he saw something that made him stop in his tracks.

Jihoon gulped. Spare key under the mat. He got this. Steeling himself, he made a grab for the object. No time like the present. And he stuck the key into the lock, jangle, jangle. The door swung inwards and something burst forth, tackling him to the ground.

What?

Soonyoung felt his jaw unhinge, he opened the door to his home and there was no happy wagging of his dog’s tail to welcome him back. Instead, there was a paper cup lying on the table, a note attached at the side.

He set down his own bags to pick up both the objects, now observing that the cup had some red string attached to its base, and the string travelled its way to the bedroom. Next he read the note. There was only one word written on it in small, neat letters.

Hello.

So he lifted the cup to his mouth. “Hello?”

There was a bang from beyond the bedroom door. Scrambling and shuffling and scuttling.

“H-hello.” Came the response, and despite the distortion, Soonyoung knew who it was. No not so much that, he’d known the moment he opened the door. Because whatever void the other had created when he left was suddenly filled again, only Soonyoung wouldn’t allow himself to believe. And now it was undeniable, the shy voice on the other end of the string was as concrete as anything.

“You’re-”  
“I wanted-”

They started at the same time.

“Go ahead.”  
“You first.”

Soonyoung couldn’t help it, he laughed at how unsynchronised they were. He heard Jihoon’s little chuckles through the cup.

The dog barked at their noise.

“I see you’ve got yourself a pet.”

Soonyoung decided to sit on his sofa, leaning half over the back so he could continue to talk.

“Yeah, poor thing was caught in the rain. Her name is Hurricane, by the way.”

He could almost hear Woozi frown, his nose scrunching up. That’s silly, he would say. “That’s silly.”

Soonyoung beamed. “Hey don’t insult my dog.”

“No the dog’s fine, it’s the owner’s that got a screw loose. Ain’t that right?” Here he must have turned to say this to the dog, maybe even stroke it a little. Hurricane barked happily, that traitor.

Unfortunately, it seemed like they ran out of happiness, as the moment ebbed slowly away and left them to face the true awkwardness of that intangible thing that plagued them both.

“I missed you.”

At first Soonyoung thought his thoughts slipped from his tongue, but then he realised and somehow emboldened, he too spoke up. “I missed you too. A lot.”

“Will you listen to a story?”

That seemed a little left field but Soonyoung swallowed. “Of course.”

But Jihoon didn’t start immediately, taking some time to clear his mind.

“When I was in school, I dated a boy from my class, you might have heard of him, Min Jingi is his name. The missing producer. I was very happy then, because he showered me with a lot of affection, and it seemed like nothing could come in our way.

But everyday Jingi was becoming a different person. He was under the weather. I thought. He was stressed. My friends tried to talk sense into me but I hated their lies, so when Jingi said not to meet them, not to allow myself to be influenced by their poison, I agreed without hesitation.

My doubts were sated after that. We worked together and living was comfortable. In an isolated world, I made music while he sold it. Then one day… the realisation hit me. Funnily enough, I meant that literally. One day, Jingi was in a particularly bad mood. He came home bumbling and drunk. He hit me. The illusion veiling my eyes shattered. I saw that I had been wrong. But at the same time, I saw that I was trapped alone. And I had been the one to burn the bridges.”

Hearing it made Soonyoung sick in the stomach. Of course he had his suspicions, and both Jeonghan and Seungcheol gave him very cryptic warnings. That didn’t make the truth any less unpleasant.

“You know, then I met you. And I don’t know, I liked being here but I was afraid that I wasn’t worthy of it. After all, it seemed only right that I get what I deserve. And what I deserve for cutting myself off, was to stay alone until I die.

But I am selfish. Eventually, I didn’t want to return anymore. I wanted to be happy again.

Jingi found me the other day, while I was on my shift. I didn’t want to go but it seemed that I was still too scared to stand against him. Luckily Jun came in at that very moment. That’s when I realised something else.

It would be too unkind for you. How could I impose myself anymore? When I’ve already troubled you so much. It wasn’t right.

So I don’t want these roles anymore. I don’t want to be Woozi, who is being sheltered like a stray. Listen, my name is Lee Jihoon, and I like you a lot, and I’m sorry for everything. I’d understand if you hate me and want me gone.”

After saying so much, he was honestly a little winded, but it mattered not. He finally said it. Laid everything out clean. In fact, he felt lighter already, the burden of secrets lifted. If he were rejected now, he wouldn’t even feel as devastated. And rejection seemed imminent, taking into account the radio silence on Soonyoung’s end.

It’ll only be a bit awkward to have to walk past him as he left.

Seconds ticked by, Soonyoung was well aware that it was fast approaching awkward territory but he didn’t know what to say. Where did he even start? He felt his blood boil over the idea of an abusive partner. He felt his heart sink at the image of how solitary a life Jihoon must have lived.

Jihoon. Jihoon, Jihoon. And his head was light because he finally had a name.

How happy he was that the other told him all this.

Then it occurred to him, what he could say.

“Thank you.”

Jihoon looked down at the paper cup resting between his fingers.

“Thank you for opening up. I’m really sorry to hear about what happened to you. I had my suspicions about some things, you know. But it never seemed to matter.

Because being with you was just nice and I was also being just as selfish.

You already know my parents are not supportive so I’ve never had a boyfriend before. Not even Seokmin, you know. I never actually had any intention to date him. It’s just that after I came out, everything went to shit. Seokmin’s my closest friend but my mother was convinced we were secretly going out. She had it in her head that I was led astray. So she tried to ban me from being near him altogether, I don’t even know how he stayed my friend after all that.

All I knew was, as long as I don’t date anyone, it’d be fine. Being with you was strange, because you had your secrets, and as long as I didn’t pry too much, I didn’t need to tell you mine either.

But still, I had so much fun, and you grew so important that I felt like I wanted to know. But that would pull apart what we had.

That was stupid. And I’m sorry. So let me reintroduce myself. My name is Kwon Soonyoung, and I like you too.”

Throughout his ramblings, he had moved closer to the door, until he no longer needed the cup to speak. Jihoon could feel the presence press against the wooden door, press against his back at the point where he was leaning.

They’d come this far.

He stood, and opened the door.

Soonyoung was in front of him. He hadn’t seen that face in weeks, but he looked the same. Meanwhile, Soonyoung gaped.

“You dyed your hair!” He exclaimed.

Oh yeah, Jihoon seemed to have forgotten that amidst the heart to heart. But now he was blushing under the attention.

“I did.” And he wanted to know Soonyoung’s opinion. “How is it?”

“Wow, I didn’t think you could be any cuter but here you are, defying expectation.”

How embarrassing, Jihoon regretted asking. “Shut up.”

Soonyoung drew his brows. “Now you’re really a fairy!”

“Geez, shut up!”

But Soonyoung only laughed. Then he seemed to remember something. “Wait here.” A moot point when he went back for the briefest of seconds, before returning with a paper bag. Jihoon tilted his head at it.

“I bought this thinking of you. Although I didn’t expect you’d show up today.” Soonyoung said by way of explanation.

Jihoon gently pulled out the item. It was a cell phone. He blinked. The old flip kind that was hard to imagine finding today. Just like the first time they met. Jihoon was at a complete loss for words.

“The shopkeeper even gave me a SIM for it.”

He flipped it this way and that, still not knowing what to say. An old memory pulsed in his head, demanding to be replayed.

Knock knock.

Hurricane stood up. Jihoon snapped his head to look at Soonyoung. Soonyoung looked confused.

Hesitantly, Soonyoung pulled himself away to go to the door. The knocks came more insistently. Soonyoung turned the handle.

“So it is you.” The person outside growled.

Jihoon recognised that voice in an instant.

“Watch out!” He screamed.

Thankfully, Soonyoung was fast enough to avoid the knife, catching the man’s arm with both hands. They struggled in that gridlock.

Hurricane leapt forward, sinking her teeth into Jingi’s calves.

Without looking back, Soonyoung was firm in his order. “Get out of here now.”

But Jihoon was paralysed. His limbs wouldn’t move.

“Jihoon!”

And suddenly he could. Soonyoung called his name. The world was suddenly frighteningly clear. Jingi had found him again. Jingi was trying to cause harm to Soonyoung. Soonyoung was protecting him. He would be of no use in there. Still there was something he could do.

He lifted the phone as he sped down the stairs.

Don’t support it. Report it.

“Hel-”

“Officer! A bad man just showed up.” He recited the address. “He’s got a knife, please, Soonyoung is holding him off, you have to save him.”

The officer on the line was serious. He said they’d get there as soon as possible. By the time Jihoon got to the ground floor, he found that soon as possible had not been soon enough for him.

He didn’t know where to go from here. There was a crash loud enough that he could hear it from below. Surely it must be from Soonyoung’s apartment. Well, he couldn’t go anywhere now anyway. He had to stay.

Alone, he was almost swallowed whole by his worry and panic. He held the phone in both his hands, squeezed tight as if in prayer. Until red and blue lights bloomed in the distance and he found himself running towards them in anxiousness.

Smartly dressed men and women in blue suits came out of the cars. One of them notice Jihoon immediately, and approach him.

Their meeting was cut short by the sound of an explosion.

Off to the side, another officer brought a radio to his mouth and, “call the fire department too.”

Jihoon was transfixed. He felt his heart sinking no, no, no, no.

A large swarm of people, the neighbours, rushed down the stairs in blind fear. Jihoon stood unmoving, a pink beacon, even as they swept across him like a wave. Somehow his senses were sharpened and he took notice of every face that showed up. He recognised some, didn’t know some others, but none of them bore the face he was looking for.

There was shouting, there was screaming, there was his blood rushing loudly in his ears until he couldn’t hear properly.

And a sooty cough that he thought he might know.

He turned around slowly.

There Jingi was being hauled off by two police officers flanking his left and right, as he thrashed, looking almost delirious. Jihoon went up to them.

“What about Soonyoung?!”

From behind.

“I’m here.”

Jihoon thought he forgot how to breathe. He turned once more, and sure enough Soonyoung was there, looking a little roughed up, but that was to be expected, Hurricane bundled in his arms.

“Shit.” Jihoon cursed, dashing forward to tackle the idiot, who had just enough time to put down the dog before he returned the hug, arms wrapped around Jihoon’s smaller frame in a tight embrace.

“Shit, shit, shit. I thought you might die.”

“So did I.”

There was plenty more to say, surely, but for now Jihoon was thankful enough to be pressed close to Soonyoung, feeling his warmth, hearing his sound. Knowing that he was alive.

_Because everything’s always changing, even you and me._

_So hold on to things precious, and let miracles be._

So this was it, the accumulation of everything that’s happened so far but not the conclusion, oh far from it.

I like you a lot.

I like you too.

Because of you I’m not ashamed of things past. With you by my side I dare challenge the future.

The smoke is pouring from the window, the dog is jumping at our heels. And we are holding each other, tight and close. So to the shrouded moon I say, fate can try, but **come what may**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- we have reached the end!!  
> \-- i honestly cannot believe it because i said my intention for chapter april was to post in april, and now we're halfway through september  
> \-- there's much to be criticised, i think  
> \-- still i'm just actually proud of finishing a multi-chaptered fic, plus this is the longest thing i've ever produced. my god, it was about 7k words per chapter
> 
> \- so whether you were here from the first chapter or just found this at the update, thanks a whole bunch for being on this journey with me. i received unexpected traction for this. over a 100 kudos is something i never imagined and i'm really grateful! 
> 
> \- some trivia:  
> \-- the friend whose parents own the chinese food place is chan  
> \-- gyuhao are a thing in this au, but they're off on their honeymoon in china and never show up  
> \-- performance team met around high school as a dance team  
> \-- vernon was the second hand storeowner  
> \-- the soundtrack for this chapter was rain sound (bap), gashina (sunmi), and screaming (me)
> 
> \- haha, i did say it'll be long  
> \-- once again thanks for reading. i hope this last chapter was satisfactory  
> \-- i haven't replied to comments for this piece but i appreciate every one with all my heart!
> 
> \- feel free to talk to/ cuss at me on the twt @hoziwooshi if you'd like


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